Strangers
by Roadrunnerz
Summary: How well do we really know the ones we love? How far will we go to keep them safe? An ensemble AMC/GH fic featuring: Anna/David, Robin, Alex/Dimitri, Robert, Sean and Faison. Story begins after Anna finds out she's pregnant, on AMC.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"_Let this be my last word, that I trust in your love."_  
Tagore

_Valley Inn, Pine Valley, PA_

David Hayward watched the twelve-year-old boy awkwardly make his way up to the stage.

The boy stumbled, and nearly fell, when he walked across the stage; quickly endearing himself to the black tie crowd that was seated at dozens of lavishly decorated tables.

David adjusted his bow tie, allowing himself a smirk as he watched the boy fiddle nervously with his glasses.

The master of ceremonies kindly told the boy where to stand and began his last speech of the evening.

"For our final award, I present to you one very brave young man, Tyler Grossman." He coughed into the microphone and paused before starting again. "Two months ago, a gas leak caused a tremendous fire in young Tyler's home. Tyler was home that night with his grandmother and his little sister, four-year-old Kayla. Most of us would have panicked at the sudden sound of an explosion in our home. Not our Tyler here. The very first thing he did was grab his sister and run out of the house with her. Once he was safely outside, he realized his grandmother was still inside. In spite of flames that now rose as high as Tyler is tall, and black smoke that reduced visibility to near zero, Tyler made the decision to go back inside and find his grandma. It took him nearly ten minutes to find his grandmother, as much time as it took for the fire trucks to arrive at the site, and to help her escape the inferno that was once his house." The man paused and let his words sink into his captive audience. "Tyler suffered third degree burns on his arms and legs as a result of his bravery, but even so, his first question to the fire fighters when he came out of the house was; 'Where's my sister?'"

A roar of applause interrupted him. "And now, to present Pine Valley's annual award for Exceptional Courage and Bravery in the face of Danger, I am pleased to introduce our very own Chief of Police… Anna Devane."

There was another, shorter round of applause as David's wife stepped up onto the stage. 'No…not _your wife_,' he corrected himself. 'Not any longer.' She had divorced him well over a month ago, in spite of his protests and pleas to the contrary. He'd even asked Leo, his brother, to plead his case to Anna at the airport before she took off for some Caribbean Island to finalize the end of their marriage. Now, more than month later, he still thought of her as his wife.

She wore an elegant black suit, slightly more conservative than her usual choice of attire. She accented it with a stylish white blouse and black designer heels. Her long hair was loosely tied back with a modern, silver clasp and she wore a touch more make-up for the occasion than she usally did. 'Minute details,' David thought, absentmindedly. Details he barely noticed when they were together and which his eyes now hungered for, with as much thirst as a plant in the desert.

David watched her walk towards the young boy, bending down to kiss him on the cheek, a gesture that made the boy blush a bright, poppy red. In an obvious attempt to relieve his nerves, Anna whispered something in his ear. Whatever she said made him smile and the audience smiled along.

The master of ceremonies lowered the microphone before Anna stepped up to it. At the same time Anna put a hand on Tyler's shoulder, offering him first a nod and then a smile. He returned it with a beaming grin of his own, revealing a row of metal braces on his teeth.

'That's a gift,' David realized, with pride. 'To take a nervous little boy and make him feel on top of the world. It's a beautiful gift, Anna.'

"Ladies and gentlemen, it's a privilege for me to be here tonight, to be given a chance to honour young Tyler Grossman."

David looked around the capacity-filled ballroom and saw all eyes focus on his wife. 'No, not your wife,' he corrected himself. Again. '_Ex-wife._'

Her voice, with its hint of an English accent, rang through the room.

"Working in law enforcement, it's easy to get caught up in all that is wrong and malevolent in our society," she started. "When you constantly come face to face with people that choose to ignore our laws and commit crimes that injure or kill others, it's easy to become disillusioned, jaded even. Yet, occasions like this one tonight reaffirm my faith in humanity," she paused and David lowered his eyes, suddenly worried that she might spot him in the audience.

"Occasions like these remind me of our incredible capacity to care and to love and to put the welfare of others before our own. When Tyler Grossman went back inside that house to bring his grandmother to safety, he did it without a moment's hesitation. He didn't know whether he'd come back out of that house, or whether he'd be able to help his grandmother. He simply acted with his heart, with the love of a grandson. His actions were heroic and courageous beyond that which we could hope to ask, or expect of any twelve year old. As I look into the room tonight I hope that Tyler's incredible act of bravery, may also be an inspiration. An inspiration to act with our hearts when someone is in need, and to value the lives of those we love, as much, or even more so, than our own."

She squeezed the boy's shoulder, "You're an inspiration to me, Tyler, and I can't thank you enough for that. It's an honour to present you with this award tonight."

He offered her another beaming smile.

Anna bent down to remove the shiny medal from the red, satin box she held in her hand. She deftly pinned the medal on his cotton shirt, giving him another kiss on the cheek before the audience erupted with applause.

The master of ceremonies stepped back into the scene, holding a microphone up to the boy's face. "So tell us, Tyler. What do you want to be when you grow up?"

"A police officer," he answered with a grin.

"Good," Anna replied, not missing a beat. "That'll make it easier for me to recruit you."

The audience chuckled and David listened to several more minutes of banter between the people on stage before the master of ceremonies finally gave his closing speech.

A voice from behind took him away from the scene in front of him.

"Doctor Hayward, we're ready to head out, before the crowds do." The voice belonged to the father of the young girl with the heart condition he'd accompanied here. It was the reason he was here tonight. The girl, who had also received an earlier award, had a condition that was so precarious, she was unable to leave the hospital without the care of a physician. Conveniently enough, the girl's need for a physician just so happened to coincide with David's community service requirements.

"If you could just see Sarah to the para-van, you don't need to ride back to PVH with us. Doctor Martin offered to accompany us," the girl's father told him.

'_Doctor Martin,_' David thought, frowning. 'I wonder which one of the self-righteous Martins he's referring to. Junior or Senior.' "It's no trouble for me to travel back to PVH with Sarah," David insisted, with as much politeness as he could muster. "After all, your daughter has a _hear_t condition and I _am_ a cardiologist."

The man tightened his lips, "No really, Dr. Hayward. Although I appreciate your efforts, I think we'd prefer to be accompanied by Dr. Martin."

'You'd prefer to be accompanied by a pillar of the community, rather than a convicted felon, that's what you want to say,' he thought, biting his tongue. "If that's what you prefer," he said, somehow managing a forced smile.

The man nodded, with a hint of relief. "It is, yes. Thank you for your services, Doctor Hayward."

"You damn well don't have to thank me. It's not as though I had a choice." He couldn't resist that one snide reply, even if it was masked under his breath, low enough for the man not to hear.

_Later_

Anna Devane stood alone in the plush hallway of the Valley Inn, debating whether to return to her suite or to the police station, where she knew a half dozen case files awaited her.

"That's all I do these days; work," she mumbled to herself. She felt nauseous again and moved a hand to her stomach. "Not again…" she sighed. She'd already thrown up twice today and frankly, as far as she was concerned, in the first two and a half months of her pregnancy she had enough morning sickness to last her a lifetime.

'Whoever came up with the term morning sickness was so obviously a man,' she thought. 'A man who saw his wife get sick in the morning and then left for the rest of the day.'

She sat down on a satin-covered bench in the hallway, hoping the nausea would pass rather than worsen, as it mercifully did on occasion. She lowered her head into her hands, closing her eyes.

When she opened them again, she saw a young Hispanic woman holding a walkie-talkie in her hand, standing mere feet away from her. Anna recognized her as one of the security officers of the Valley Inn.

"It'll have to wait," she heard the woman say. "There's only one of me, and I can't be in two places at the same time."

Anna gave her a wan smile. "Busy night?"

The Hispanic woman returned her smile, recognizing the Chief of Police. "The awards gala kept up busy tonight, Chief. Now I have a guest who locked himself out of his room without ID and some unauthorized guy playing the piano in the ballroom."

Anna checked her watch, deciding it was definitely too late to make the trip back to the station. "Why don't you help the stranded guest and I'll look after the delinquent pianist for you?"

"No, I can't ask you to…" the woman started, embarrassed

Anna stood up. "You're not asking, I'm offering."

The woman's expression changed to gratitude. "Are you sure, Chief Devane?"

Anna nodded. "Sure. I haven't arrested anyone all day. I have quotas to meet, you know."

The woman looked at her aghast, "Oh…no, you don't have to arrest him. Just ask him to stop, leave the building if necessary. Maybe I should do this, Chief..."

Anna smirked. "I'm kidding… I know."

"Oh…yes, of course. Thank you, for you help."

"You're welcome."

Anna waited until the woman was out of view, and then took a deep breath before heading towards the ballroom.

_Inside the ballroom_

Anna entered the huge ballroom, feeling her nausea rise with each step she took.

'Great,' she thought. 'Maybe if I throw up on him, that'll be all the incentive he needs to leave the piano. I won't even have to ask.'

She paused before heading towards the baby grand, unable to hide a smile as she listened to the music. Regardless of whether or not he was allowed in here, he played beautifully. It was a familiar piece that Anna recognized but couldn't name.

"Chopin…" she guessed, wishing she knew more about music. It was a sad, haunting tune that filled the room with its melancholy. Against her better judgment, she waited several long minutes before approaching him, frowning when she recognized the man seated at the piano.

"I should have known," she announced, startling him.

The music stopped.

"Anna…"

David Hayward. Her ex-husband and father of the child she was carrying looked as impossibly handsome as he ever had. He wore a crisp, tailor-made tuxedo, complete with tails and silk bow tie, which he'd loosened and now hung freely around his shirt collar. A strand of jet-black hair fell over his forehead when he turned around to look at her.

"I didn't know you played the piano," she remarked, hating that even now his presence could still make her heart beat faster.

He smiled at her, "You didn't think I was a one-note villain, did you?"

She stiffled a laugh, unwilling to give him the satisfaction.

It was well over a month since they'd been in the same room together. Since they so much as spoke two sentences to one another.

After the divorce, Anna had gone full steam ahead to build a case against him. She was certain without a doubt that Maria Grey's treatment involved an untested, unapproved drug. The modus operandi had David Hayward's name written all over it. Anna had seen him do it before, with her own eyes, when he tested unapproved drugs on himself, and eventually on the woman he once loved, Dixie Martin. It was the David Hayward way of force-feeding the world his genius. To hell with whoever got hurt in the process.

This time the people who got hurt were two young, innocent children, deprived of their mother for five long years, as well as her good friend, Edmund Grey; the same man who had patiently helped her reclaim her own memory.

This time it was too much. Anna could forgive him so much. But not this.

Especially not _now_, when she was pregnant with a child of her own.

_His_ child.

Even so, much of her efforts to build a case against him had been futile. The drug in question was nowhere to be found. Maria Grey, or Maureen Gorman, as she now called herself, refused to testify against David, a fact that had both puzzled and angered Anna.

In short, the most damning charge she'd been able to pin on him was that of drugging one of her officers. It was a paltry charge compared to the ones she intended to raise in the near future. On top of it, David posted bail shortly after his arrest and was sentenced to nothing more than community service. It was as though he was toying with her efforts to make him pay.

"Are you going to arrest me, Chief?" he asked her, his charcoal eyes looking through her as though she were transparent.

She shook her head. "No. But I will ask you to leave."

"Is that your way of saying you don't like my playing?"

Anna bit her lip, annoyed at the effect he had on her. "You're trespassing. This is private property."

David nodded, his hand resting silently on the piano keys now. "I must've missed the _'Don't Touch'_ sign."

Anna's anger rose, "Are you going to leave, or do you really want me to arrest you?"

The nausea hit her again and she was afraid she'd soon have to make a dash for the nearest washroom.

David noticed her discomfort immediately. "Anna…?" His voice was low, gentle. "Hey, are you okay?"

Anna sat down on the piano bench next to him, clenching her teeth. The last thing she wanted was his help. Or worse, his sympathy. "I'm fine."

He took a deep breath and Anna could sense that took effort for him not to reach over and touch her. Theirs had always been an instinctually physical relationship. She could read his body language as well as his gaze. "Is the morning sickness still bad?" he asked softly.

She looked at him, "What do you mean '_still_'?"

"I know it was bad in the first couple of months, but you'll be past the first trimester soon. It should stop, so should the lightheadedness. If it doesn't you should speak to your doctor because…"

Anna raised her eyebrows, interrupting him. "How do you know _any_ of this?"

David avoided her interrogative stare, as if debating whether another lie or maybe the truth would better serve him this time. "I…" He paused, "Maggie. I talk to Maggie sometimes."

Anna deducted that 'sometimes' was a half truth. It had to be more than that for him to know as much as he did.

"Staying away from you, not being part of...your pregnancy, it's the most difficult thing I've ever had to to."

_Oh no, you don't. You're not getting to me...not like this. _"So you have Maggie report back to you, do you?"

"Don't be angry with her. She's my cousin…"

"I know she's a part of your life, I'd never begrudge her that. But I'd appreciate it if you didn't interrogate her about my health."

"I ask her how you're doing, that's all."

"I'm fine."

"I can see that," he started biting his tongue to avoid an argument, then looking at her as if he'd changed his mind. "Actually...you look tired, Anna. You barely gained any weight. Are you able to keep anything down?"

The inquisition made her blush. "Look, I'm leaving."

"I thought you were going to arrest me."

"I've never had any luck getting you to do anything I want, so I've deicded I'm not going to bother. Hotel security can kick you out."

"You got me to love you…"

Anna bit her lip, and stared at him in silence. _You're not doing this. I won't let you. Not anymore._

She turned on her heel, ready to leave. Unable to look at him any longer.

"Anna…don't go!" All his earlier restraint evaporated now and he grabbed her arm. "For chrissakes...this can't be it. After a month of not seeing you. All I get is one lousy minute?"

"I have nothing to say to you."

He let go of her arm. "We don't have to talk…_please_. Five minutes, Anna. Just stay here for five minutes."

"No."

"Let me play something for you."

"David…don't…"

"One song, Anna. _Please_. Just one song."

She sighed.

"I don't even know what music you like…"

She managed a smirk. "Maybe we should have asked each other twenty questions before we got married….you know, like, who do you prefer; the Beatles or the Stones? Chocolate or vanilla? Do you take milk or cream? Lights on or off?"

He closed his eyes, resting his hands on the keyboard, grateful for the respite. "I think I could handle those…Stones for the first one. Chocolate for the second. As for cream or milk, neither. You take your coffee black…with a little sugar, but only when you're tired. Which reminds me, you _are_ drinking decaf now, aren't you?"

Anna rolled her eyes.

David cringed. 'Idiot,' he mouthed softly.

"Lastly," he continued, relieved to see she hadn't moved from the piano bench. "Lights on or off, that's a tough one…both, really." He smiled at her. "Both."

Anna was surprised to see him display a trait she'd only caught in the rarest of moments before. Doctor David Hayward was nervous.

"I have to go," she whispered, her voice failing. She hated the effect he still had on her. Hated that a part of her wanted nothing more than to be in his arms again.

Seeing him seated at the piano in a tuxedo, Anna was mildly surprised that he _was _here alone, that none of the Gala attendees had thrown themselves on him. He was after all, David Hayward, _cardiologist extraordinaire_.

He took a risk and reached for her hand. "You didn't let me play you a song yet."

"Don't…"

"One song. That's all I'm asking for, Anna. One song."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because I love you."

She turned away from his gaze, unable to meet his eyes.

"You asked," he said softly. "It's the truth."

She took a deep breath. "Fine. One song."

David exhaled. "Tell me what you'd like."

She shrugged her shoulders, trying to look indifferent. "I don't know…something happy."

He chuckled. "In other words, not Chopin."

"You play very well," she conceded.

"I took lessons for years as a kid. It became an escape to get away from the madness that was Vanessa." He blushed this time, as if taken aback by the unexpected confession. "I miss...talking to you, Anna. I miss loving you too, but I think I miss the friendship more."

Anna saw him blush and her eyes let him know that she understood, even now in her anger.

He looked like he wanted her to say something, _anything_, but Anna couldn't.

Uncomfortable in the sudden silence, David began playing.

This time Anna did recognize the music. Mozart. A Little Night Music.

Anna watched his fingers, tanned, long, elegant, glide effortlessly across the ebony and ivory keys, bringing the music to life, filling the room with it.

It was a piece meant for a symphony orchestra yet David made it sound as though it should have been a piano sonata. She closed her eyes and let the music envelop her, her nausea disappearing in its gentle rhythm. It was several long seconds after he stopped playing before she opened her eyes again.

David loosened the top button of his shirt, observing her.

"Mozart was a bit happier than Chopin, wasn't he? I hope you liked it."

"It was beautiful," she admitted. She didn't have to be an expert to realize he played magnificently, with the passion and delicacy of a professional. She allowed herself a smile. 'That's another Hayward trait, isn't it?' she thought. 'All or nothing. You either do something better than anyone else out there, or you don't do it at all.'

"I'm glad," he said, interrupting her thoughts. "I'm glad I could do something that made you smile."

Anna nodded and David's soulful eyes looked at her with all the sincerity in the world.

"I should go," she told him.

"I'd give you so much more, if only you'd let me."

"Don't do this…" _God, how easy would it be to let him love her?_ When he did love her, he did it so completely, she felt like she was _everything_. He loved her the same way he played the piano, the same way he operated on his heart patients. He gave it his all. Always. No holds barred. _How do you let go of a love like that?_

His eyes penetrated her and Anna was certain he could read her thoughts and hear the pounding of her heart. _If you let him in now, you'll never_ _be able to let go again. There will be more lies. There will always be more lies._

"Why won't you let me take care of you, Anna?" he whispered.

"I want to tell you why I did what I did with Maureen Gorman...to explain..."

Anna turned around, unwilling to listen. Not yet.

He understood, but moved his hand over hers nonetheless, pushing it down onto the piano keys, where it rested.

"Let me into your life again, please. Let me be there for you during this pregnancy. " He was pleaded now, making no effort to hide the desperation in his voice.

Tears fell down Anna's face, and they made her angry. Not at him, but at herself, for being unable to steel herself against him.

"Why, Anna? Why are you so afraid of loving me?"

In a violent, sudden gesture, she brushed his hand off hers and stood up. Without so much as another glance at him, she moved away from him, walking at first and then half running, certain he couldn't hear the words she muttered under breath. "You're wrong, David. You're so wrong. I'm not afraid of loving you. What I'm afraid of is that I'll never stop loving you..."

-

David watched her leave.

He wanted to follow her. His every instinct was telling him to get up and run after her. She was shaken, upset, and he wanted nothing more than to put his arms around her.

'She's not supposed to get upset like this. Damn it!' He pounded a full, angry fist down onto the piano keyboard sending an ear-shattering clang through the ballroom.

He remembered Leo's words; _"Are you listening to me? If you railroad her, you're going to lose her for good. Her and the baby." _

"_You have to give her time."_

"Time," he sighed. "If I wait any longer our child will be born before we find our way back to one another. I'll have missed the entire pregnancy." He closed the cover of the keyboard. "I should go see if she's alright. It's the least I can do this time," he convinced himself.

His mind went back to the day he found her at Liza Chandler's estate, holding what she believed was the evidence needed to convict him, in her hands. He had pleaded with her then, pleaded first, then demanded that she hand the evidence over to him. Instead of doing that, she'd pointed a gun in his direction.

'You thought the only thing I cared about was that evidence. That and our child. Given what I did, I can't even blame you for thinking that.'

That same afternoon, Anna collapsed in her office, nearly losing their child as a result.

"But if you believe the evidence and the baby were the only things that mattered, you couldn't be further from the truth."

He'd hated himself that afternoon, hated what his actions had wrought. "You're so strong, Anna. Strong and stubborn. But even you have limits."

Halfway through the ballroom, he stopped from going after her. "And you keep pushing her to those limits," he scolded himself. "When are you going to stop hurting her?"

He'd never known fear as he felt that day, when Maggie had phoned him telling him theyd found Anna unconscious in her office.

"I thought I'd lost everything. And the worst part was that you wouldn't let me see you. You wouldn't even give me a chance to tell you how wrong you were that afternoon. How wrong you were to think that that evidence meant more to me than you do. Nothing means more to me than you and our baby."

It was the truth, he realized now, and it might have been as honest as he'd ever been with himself.

Because it was the truth, he didn't follow her.

He let her go.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_Pine Valley Police Station, Pine Valley, PA_

_The next day_

"Morning, Chief."

The tall blonde man with the deep voice entered her office holding a steaming mug of coffee in his hand. Jackson Montgomery smiled at her. "Decaf. Thought you could use a cup since you decided to come in at such an ungodly hour."

Anna returned his easy smile, accepting the cup gratefully. "I couldn't sleep last night, so I thought I might as well get something done."

He sat down across from her. "I can see that. You have red eyes, like those white guinea pigs in research labs."

Anna grinned as she took a sip of the coffee. Jackson didn't mince words. It was a quality she appreciated. It reminded her of Robert. "Thanks."

"How was the gala last night?"

She eyed him from behind the rim of the cup. "It was good. A nice reminder that there are a lot of amazing people out there. Ordinary individuals that become heroes in extraordinary circumstances."

Jackson observed her. "That's it?"

Anna gave him a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing."

Her lips curved into a smirk. She wondered how in such a short time he'd managed to get to know her so very well.

"David was there as well," she admitted.

Jackson cringed. "Why? Was there an award for least heroic individual?"

Anna chuckled. "I think he was there as part of his community service, or something like that."

"So you didn't talk to him then?"

"I didn't plan to, no. But after the whole affair was over I was about to retire to my room at the Valley Inn when I heard about a delinquent pianist playing in one of the ballrooms."

Jackson frowned, sensing where this was heading. "The Valley Inn doesn't have a security office to deal with that?"

"I offered," she explained. The fact that Jackson Montgomery had gone from Enemy Number One to the most protective of her friends could still make her smile. 'Then again,' she thought, looking at him. 'Who am I kidding? He's not my most protective friend, he's my _only_ friend here.'

"So let me guess," Jackson continued. "The delinquent pianist was none other than you ex-husband?"

"Yeah..."

"You didn't walk out of the room at this point? Tell me you did, Anna."

"Hey," she shot back, her tone defensive now. "I'm still the Chief of Police. I think I can handle a hotel trespasser."

Jackson's frown deepened, unable to hide the genuine concern behind it. "He got to you, didn't he? And because he did you were unable to sleep last night."

She said nothing, avoiding his gaze as she stared into the now half-empty coffee mug.

"Anna," he chided her, gently. "You remember what happened the last time he got to…"

"I still love him, Jackson," she admitted, interrupting him. She didn't need to be patronized. "I can't just turn that off."

"But you _can_ keep from running into him."

Anna shrugged. "Maybe yesterday was proof that avoiding him isn't as easy and clear cut as I'd hoped it would be. Maybe Pine Valley isn't big enough for the two of us."

"All that will change once we have him behind bars. You won't have any more chances of running into him then."

Anna ran her index finger along the rim of her coffee mug. "Do you really think so? Or am I kidding myself to think that putting him in prison will change anything?"

"Of course it'll change things! He won't be in our faces anymore."

"What if we can't put him away?"

"You bet we'll put him away. For starters, I hope you charged him with trespassing last night."

Anna rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, Jackson. He was playing a hotel piano!"

He leaned forward. "So what? Next time you see him throwing a gum wrapper on the sidewalk you fine him for littering. It might be petty, but you never know, if you have a clever enough lawyer, these things could add up."

"That's your game, Jackson. I'm a cop not a lawyer. I want to put him away, yes. But not like that."

Jackson sighed, defeated. "I hate what he's doing to you. He knows he has a hold over you and he uses it to his advantage every chance he gets."

"Last night wasn't his fault. If I can't handle seeing him that's my problem, isn't it?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, it won't be an issue once he's behind bars."

"What I'm trying to say is that maybe I should do more than try and jail him. Maybe I should leave Pine Valley."

Jackson raised his brows, "You mean a vacation? Sure, I agree with you. God knows you could use one. You've been here almost twenty-four-seven these last few months, against doctor's orders even. I think a week of doing absolutely nothing would do wonders for you."

Anna shook her head. "No, I meant _leave_ Pine Valley."

"Leave Pine Valley? Why in the world?"

"Let's face it...David was my only link to this town. Other than him, and maybe Edmund, I have no friends and family here. In less than six months I'll be going on maternity leave anyway…then what?"

"Then you'll take some time off and come back when you're ready."

"This is a big job, Jackson. Is it even realistic to think I could be Chief of Police and raise this child by myself?"

"I'll tell you what's unrealistic... saying you have no friends in Pine Valley."

Her dark eyes lit up into a smile. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insult you. You've been a terrific friend to me these past few months. I couldn't have asked for a better one."

"Stick around and you'll find out just how good a friend I can be..."

"The more I think about it, the more I think I may be right about this. That leaving Pine Valley is the right thing to do."

"And go where?"

She raised her hands. "I don't know. Port Charles? I still know a lot of people there and I'm sure I could land a position at the PCPD, alongside Mac Scorpio."

"Port Charles isn't home anymore, Anna. You haven't even gone back there to visit since you came here from Canada."

"I could go to Hungary and spend some time with my sister. I'd love to get to know her better. Or maybe Paris, to be with my daughter while she's completing her studies at the Sorbonne." She paused to finish the rest of her coffee. "I've neglected my family, Jackson, since coming back into the land of the living. I fell in love, got married, resumed my career and, amidst it all, I forgot about the two people in this world who are closest to my heart, my daughter and my sister."

Jackson nodded. "Then go see them. Let them spoil you for a while and then come back here refreshed."

Anna bit her lip, "Maybe."

The truth was her mind was already made up. Even if she couldn't say it aloud just yet.

"Don't let David Hayward run you out of town, Anna. You're not a coward and you certainly don't strike me as someone who backs down from a challenge or runs from a problem."

"I've never run away from anything, Jackson. But this time it's different. There's more at stake here than my career or my reputation. There's another life I have to think about. I already came much too close to losing my baby once before."

Throwing protocol out the window, Jackson moved one of his hands over hers. "You're not going to lose this baby, Anna. I promise you."

"Thank you…thank you for saying that."

"I mean it."

Anna felt tears well up again, and she moved an embarrassed hand to brush them away. "God, I hate this. I'm not usually like this."

Jackson laughed, "Hormones?"

"Yeah."

He gave her hand a final squeeze. Anna was starting to suspect that maybe his feelings for her went beyond friendship. She knew it wasn't something she'd be able to reciprocate, much as she liked him. _One more reason to leave Pine Valley._

"I'll support whatever decision you make, but please think long and hard before making it."

She nodded, "I will."

He handed her a manila file folder. "I'll be in touch later about the Turner case. His lawyer changed the plea to manslaughter, thought you might like to know."

"Great," she mumbled sarcastically.

"In the meantime, take it easy."

Anna gave him a mock salute. "Will do."

Only after he left her office did she allow herself to relax, moving a protective hand over her stomach. "It's okay, baby," she whispered. "We're going to leave this town behind and start over again. Because you're what matters now."

She reached over to pick up her phone, dialling the one long distance number she knew by heart. Her face lit up when a familiar voice answered. "Hi sweetheart, it's me. How are you doing? Tell me, Robin...how would you feel about me coming to stay with you for a while?"

-

_One week later_

_-_

"What do you mean she _left_?" David Hayward demanded over the phone.

"She just...left."

David wasn't sure what was more frustrating; the news Maggie had just given him or the way in which she was trying to explain it. "Anna left for the weekend? For a vacation? For a business trip? Could you be a little more specific, sweetheart?"

"No, nothing like that."

David could almost sense the hesitancy in her voice. She was trying to soften the blows.

"She kinda said goodbye yesterday. She told me that she'd be away from Pine Valley for a while." There was a long pause. "At least...until the baby's born."

"What?" Surely he couldn't have heard that last part correctly. "Where in the world did she go?"

Silence.

David grasped the receiver. Exasperated. "Maggie!"

"I'm sorry David, but she wouldn't tell me."

"Maggie, I know she wouldn't have left without telling you where she went. You have to tell me sweetheart, you know how much Anna means to me. I would never do anything to hurt her or the baby. But this is _our _child…not just Anna's."

"I think there's a reason she didn't tell me anything. I think she knows that you've been checking up on her through me.

'Of course she knows,' David thought, wanting to bang the receiver against his forehead. 'I'm the idiot who told her.'

"I'm sorry, David. I'm really sorry. I asked her to tell me where she was going but she wouldn't. I swear. She just said that she'd be in touch. That she'd call me…"

David heard his young cousin's voice choking on the other end, forcing him to compose himself.

"Maggie, it's okay. This isn't your fault. I'll find her…don't worry. She can't run away from me forever."

"But even if you do find her, you can't leave Pine Valley can you? Because of the charges held against you."

"A travel ban won't keep me from the my child and the woman I love. Trust me. It'll take more than that. I _will_ find her."

He stayed on the phone with Maggie long enough to make sure she felt no guilt or responsibility over Anna's decision.

"Everything's gonna turn out okay. Everything," he told her, trying to convince himself.

It was only after he hung up that he felt a sudden, uncontrollable surge of panic.

'Is it?' he asked himself. 'Is anything ever going to be okay again?'

He wanted so much to witness Anna's pregnancy. To feel her changing body next to his at night. He thought he had yearnings and ambitions aplenty before he met Anna, but they were nothing compared to how much he wanted _this_. Keeping his distance from her was the most heart- wrenchingly difficult thing he'd ever done. He did it only because his brother Leo had convinced him it was the only way he stood a chance with her at all. That he needed to give her space and time, or else he'd lose her outright.

So he stayed away.

Each time David told himself he couldn't stand another day without witnessing a single moment of Anna's pregnancy, he picked up the phone and called his brother instead. His brother or Maggie.

He thought he did the right thing.

And now Anna was gone.

-

_Later_

_District Attorney's Office_

_-_

The elevator ride was taking forever.

David Hayward glanced into the mirrored walls that surrounded him, appalled at the reflection that stared back. He sported a week-old beard and a rumpled blue shirt that was more than a size too big. It did a poor job accommodating the weight that he'd lost over the past two months. He covered it with a sleek, black leather jacket that had cost him more money than it was worth. The jacket was the only indicator that maybe he wasn't a homeless man after all.

'I look like I spent the night sleeping on the street,' he thought, rubbing the stubble on his chin.

He didn't care.

"Damn it, what's taking so long?" He impatiently pressed down on the "open" button before the stainless steel door finally opened on the third floor.

When he spotted a young woman carrying a pile of papers, he stopped her in the middle of the hallway. "I'm looking for the DA's office," he told her.

She looked at him and hesitated. "It's…uh, it's the last door on at the end of the hallway, on your left."

David nodded, too focused on his goal to acknowledge her reply. When he reached Jackson Montgomery's office he pushed open the door without knocking.

"Where is she?" he demanded, striding into the room.

"Excuse me?" Jackson turned away from his computer screen, trying to see who had the audacity to storm into his office without so much as a knock on the door. His expression changed to anger when he recognized the intruder. "What the hell do you think you're doing here, David?"

"Where's my wife?" he repeated, glaring at the District Attorney.

"When are you going to get that she's not your wife anymore?"

David's anger mounted. "And when are_ you_ going to get it through your head that even if you take her out for fancy dinners and pay her bedside visits at the hospital, she isn't interested in you?"

Jackson got up and stood next to David Hayward, a good head taller than the cardiologist. "You are so far out of line, David...you're going to be sorry you ever set foot in this office."

David straightened his spine, "Tell me where she is." His eyes unwavering, as his voice softened. "Please…I love her, Jackson. She's carrying my child…"

Jackson frowned, his anger now mixed with disgust.

"This is my baby too. I have a right to know where my child is."

"You think so? What about Maria's right to see _her_ children?"

David felt the same sickening feeling rise inside him again. The same feeling he had after Maggie's phone call. It was the knowledge that no matter what he said or did to the District Attorney, short of threatening his life; Jackson Montgomery was never going to divulge Anna's whereabouts to him. "Damn it, Jackson! This has nothing to do with Maria! _Nothing!_ This is between you, Anna and me…and you don't know the whole story about Maria!"

Jackson chuckled, a smug smile spreading across his face when he sensed David's fear. "I don't know _your_ side of the story, that's what you want to say. The only thing I'm going to divulge to you right now is that you've just added two more charges to your long list of felonies; trespassing and harassment."

David gritted his teeth wanting nothing more than to wipe the smugness off the DA's face. "Look, I'm asking you…no I'm _begging_ you! Please tell me where she is!"

Jackson seemed to relish his powerlessness. "You're pathetic, Hayward and it's about time you paid a price for destroying everything you touch. Get out of my office before I call security."

"_Please_…" David repeated.

"I said, '_Get out!_'"

David took a step back, his earlier sense of helplessness overwhelming him now, weakening his knees. He felt as though he was holding a fist full of sand. No matter how tightly he clenched his fingers, its grains kept slipping through.

Jackson picked up his phone, "I'm calling security…"

David took a deep breath. "Fine."

He closed his eyes and slowly turned around.

_"Get out right now!"_

David stormed out of the office, slamming the door shut behind him.

It was only when he was in the hallway that he felt his legs give in and he had to hold on to the wall to support himself.

He was losing _everything_. He forced himself to breathe, deep controlling breaths that kept him from falling.

The same rage he felt earlier came back again, helping him regain some strength. It filled him now, uncontrollable and all consuming. David pounded his fist into the wall that had supported him. "Damn you, Jackson! _Damn you_!"

His every fibre wanted to go back into the DA's office to beat the truth out of Jackson, regardless of the consequences.

Instead, David tunred his attention to the nearest movable object. It was a large crystal vase filled with a stunning bouquet of mixed flowers. Stargazer lilies, orchids, tulips, roses and lilacs all blended into a spectacular mix.

David picked it up with trembling hands and raised it above his head. And in one quick, violent gesture he flung it down the hallway.

The same woman who had pointed him towards Jackson's office watched him and gasped in shock.

David felt nothing anymore as the vase shattered into a thousand pieces on the floor, leaving behind shards of crystal mixed with torn flower petals. It was, he thought, an oddly beautiful mosaic of destruction.

-

_Andrassy Estate, Vadsel, Hungary_

_Two days later_

_-_

Alexandra Marick pushed her glasses back into her thick hair and handed her husband the medical journal she was reading.

"What's that word, darling?"

Dimitri raised his eyebrows, frowning. "Sweetheart, we're having breakfast. I could really do without a discussion of prions and mad cow disease, while staring at the plate of bacon."

Alex wrinkled her nose. "There haven't been any recorded cases of mad pigs, have there?" She sighed, "I'm never going to be able to practice here if I don't speak Hungarian."

"You don't _have_ to practice medicine here," he reminded her. "You could just be Countess Andrassy and cater to my every whim."

"Right...now where were we?" Alex pointed to the word in question. "This one."

"You're relentless." This time it was Dimitri who sighed. He stole her glasses, searching for the word she wanted him to translate. "That's not Hungarian," he protested when he saw it. "That's Greek or Latin, some undecipherable medical term."

"It's not a medical term. If it were I'd know what it means."

"Of course, Einstein."

"It's some long-winded verb conjugation…you must have the wrong word…" She reached for her glasses trying to remove them from his face.

Dimitri wouldn't have it. He grabbed her hand. "Darling, we're having _breakfast! _Can you can worry about groundbreaking medical advances _after_ breakfast."

Alex groaned. "I could be _making_ ground breaking medical advances, rather than reading about them, if I only spoke Hungarian." In a concession of sorts, she reached for a croissant and a cup of coffee.

"The University of Budapest already offered you a position, with or without a command of Hungarian."

"It wouldn't feel right."

"They offered you a translator if you were willing to teach. That's how much they want you there." He didn't hide his pride when he reminded her of the facts.

"It's because of the Marick name…"

Dimitri laughed at the absurdity of _that_ accusation. "No, it's because you're one the most brilliant researchers in the world."

Alex rolled her eyes, dipping her fork into a poached egg. "Not brilliant enough to learn your crazy language."

Dimitri smiled, grateful that she'd put down the medical journal for the time being. Just looking at her reminded him once again that life was good. 'No,' he corrected himself, '_Better _than good.'

They had been in Hungary for just over a year now. Sure there were times when both of them talked about returning to Pine Valley, but it didn't seem like it would happen anytime soon, and Dimitri was perfectly okay with that.

At first Dimitri feared that Alex wouldn't love his birthplace as much as he did. He was afraid she'd be bored here, away from the hustle and bustle of her former practice in downtown London, and away from her only remaining family, her sister, Anna, in Pine Valley. Instead, Alex fell in love with Vadsel the day she set foot inside the 800-year-old estate and saw the lush green grounds that surrounded its limestone walls.

He still remembered her delight the day they first arrived.

"My God, Dimitri, you never mentioned that you have such magnificent horses!"

"I told you the Maricks have bred horses for centuries here at Vadsel. Some of the most decorated Magyar warriors fought battles on the backs of horses from our grounds. These are some of the finest pedigrees in Eastern Europe."

Alex had laughed then, "You did tell me, didn't you? I was sure you were just bragging." He still remembered the awestruck expression on her face when she saw the enormous, well-kept stables. "These stallions are incredible, absolutely incredible!"

There were few people he knew that loved horses as much and as passionately as he did, but Alex was one of them. He was glad, because the horses had become his primary focus. Not only the breeding and selling, but also the training of some of the finest racehorses on the continent. 'One day, it'll be the world even,' he thought, not doubting it for a moment. Having come back from the brink of death, back to the woman he loved; Dimitri no longer felt that there was a single thing that was out of his reach.

Here, back at Vadsel, with Alex at his side, _anything_ was possible.

His new ambitions had already yielded some astonishing results on the racetracks of Europe and Dimitri was certain it was only the beginning.

He smirked as he watched Alex eat, remembering the ornery, black yearling they'd observed a few weeks ago on their grounds.

"Breaking that horse is going to require an incredible amount of patience," his most trusted handler, Jozsef had told him. "I'd have to neglect the others if you want me to do it. And truthfully, I have a feeling that no matter how fast and spirited that horse is, he'll never be disciplined enough to race. In my forty years as a trainer, I've never met such a wilful creature. I'm starting to think we'll be lucky if we can break him at all."

Together with Alex, on that hot summer evening, Dimitri had studied the magnificent creature behind the wooden fencing of his grounds and reluctantly agreed with him.

"I trust your judgment, Joszef, but this horse is a powerful thoroughbred with excellent genes. We could lower the amount we agreed to sell him for and see if we can find someone who's willing to take the time and effort…"

"Or I could break him," Alex had interrupted him.

Dimitri and Joszef had raised their eyebrows simultaneously.

"Dr. Marick, this horse…I don't think that's a…" Jozsef started in his soft, polite Hungarian accent.

"Are you crazy?" Dimitri finished for him. "That horse would break _your_ neck."

"He's stubborn, that's all. Like you," she'd teased. It had been unbearably hot that afternoon and Dimitri could still clearly remember the white, summer dress she'd worn, accentuating her slender frame beneath its thin fabric. "I have a feeling he'd respond to me."

"Not a chance. He's too wild. Too temperamental. I won't allow it."

"I have all the time in the world to break him. You're flying up to Ascot next week and you don't need me to come along. I'm not anywhere near ready to open a practice here. I could do this, Dimitri."

He had placed a hand on her forehead, glancing at his trainer, "I think my wife has a case of heatstroke." He turned back towards her, wiping a touch of perspiration from his own forehead. "Darling, you're not breaking that horse. It's too dangerous."

She had brushed off his hand, smiling sweetly, "You'll change your mind."

"You're not a professional."

"Breaking horses isn't neurosurgery. It's a process of simple steps and he certainly wouldn't be the first horse I've broken."

"I'm not letting you do this."

Alex glanced at him with the same steely determination that took him back to the day he first met her, at her practice in London. She'd quietly informed him then that she was going to do what all other physicians had told him was impossible. She was going to save his life.

And she did.

"He's incredible," Alex had told Jozsef that day, watching the horse jump wildly on the grass.

"He is Doctor Marick. Perhaps he's really an old, soul; a gypsy to remind us that not all horses were meant for the racetrack. Maybe he'd rather roam the lands of his ancestors."

Alex grinned. Dimitri knew that Alex liked Joszef. Like so many Eastern Europeans, he had a poetic nature. He loved the animals and he made sure that everyone adhered to Dimitri's standards of training and maintaining the animals. In a field that treated its athletes as a means to an end and often relied on an increasing cocktail of drugs and steroids to keep horses running beyond their capabilities, Dimitri Marick insisted on defying the trends, even if it was at the expense of winning.

"I think he's just looking for a challenge," Alex had told him, staring at the horse.

"No, _you're_ looking for a challenge," Dimitri corrected her.

Alex had shrugged her shoulders, her eyes glistening in the sunlight. "Maybe. So does he have a name?"

Joszef smiled. "Tempus Fugit."

Alex liked it. " '_Time flies._' Nice…it's fitting because he's going to beat the time clock and fly."

The arrival of Roza, one the estate's housekeepers interrupted Dimitri's thoughts, bringing him back to the present.

"Good morning Count Andrassy, Doctor Marick…I'm sorry to disturb you during your breakfast."

Alex shook her head, taking a sip of coffee from the blue porcelain cup, "It's no problem, Roza. What is it?"

The white haired woman held a cordless phone in her hand. "There's a call for you Doctor Marick. The man on the phone said it's extremely important that he speaks with you."

"Did he give you a name?"

"He said his name was Hayward. Doctor David Hayward."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_Andrassy Estate, Vadsel, Hungary_

Alexandra Marick eyed the housekeeper holding the cordless phone, "David Hayward wants to speak to me?"

Roza, the Hungarian woman, nodded, "Yes. He said it was urgent."

"Any idea what this is about?" Dimitri asked her, whispering.

Alex nodded, holding a hand over the receiver, "I think it might be about my sister."

She picked up the phone. "Hello David."

Back in Pine Valley it was 4 am and David Hayward breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Alex's voice. Finally, he was getting somewhere. "Is she staying with you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Please, Alex, if she is, tell her I need to speak to her."

"What are you talking about?"

"Anna. You know that Anna left me. I want to know where she is, that's all."

"If my sister doesn't want you to know where she is, she's obviously got a reason." Alex made no effort to hide her dislike of the cardiologist. The fact that her twin sister had married one of the few people in the world that she genuinely despised was something she never pretended to fully understand.

"She's carrying our child, Alex! I promise I'll stay away if she wants me to, but I need to know where she is and whether she's alright."

Dimitri frowned when he observed his wife on the phone, figuring the conversation was taking an unwanted turn.

"If that's all you want to know, then I can tell you that," Alex told him. "Anna's fine. She also wants nothing to do with you anymore."

"_Is_ she with you, Alex?"

Alex felt a sudden urge to hang up. "I can't tell you that."

"Come on, Alex. Is she there?"

"I said I can't tell you."

"I love her, Alex. I love Anna, and the baby."

"You have a strange way of showing your love, David."

_"Alex!"_

Frustrated, Alex heeded her desire and ended the call without another word. She groaned as she put the phone down on the table, then gave Dimitri a lopsided smile. "God, he makes my blood boil. He spends months lying to my sister…then he tries to play the sympathy game when she finally decides to leave him."

Dimitri chuckled. He knew of few people that were able to get under her skin the way David Hayward did. "I guess you think Anna made the right choice?"

"Oh yes...it's sad…especially considering the baby. It's sad that it came to that but, frankly, I don't know how they ever ended up together to begin with."

Dimitri watched her expression change when she spoke about Anna.

Both of them had been ecstatic to hear that Anna was pregnant, not only because they were happy for her, but because it gave them renewed hope that maybe, it was still possible for Alex too.

They'd been trying to conceive since their hurried wedding in London, and now almost three years later, Dimitri sensed that Alex's sudden desire to return to practising medicine was a gesture of defeat; an unspoken admission that their dream to start a family would always be just that; a dream. As much as Dimitri wanted a child with Alex he was starting to think that maybe he was asking for too much. They'd beaten the odds too many times to count. Every day was already a gift. One that, according to most doctors, he wasn't supposed to have. They were genuinely happy and very much in love. His racehorse empire was thriving despite his unorthodox methods.

It was more than most people would have dared to hope for. "Who am I to ask for more?" he mumbled.

Yet a child would have meant the world to both of them.

"If in next couple of years we don't get pregnant, why don't we adopt?" Dimitri had suggested one lazy afternoon after they dismounted their horses following a long ride through the hilly countryside.

Alex had leaned against the nearest tree trunk, taking a drink from a leather water flask, grateful to be out of the sun's glaring heat. "We could."

"There are a lot of orphans in Romania still looking for homes."

"And we have a lot to give. A little piece of paradise at Vadsel and more than enough security and love."

Dimitri grinned, "_Lots_ of love." He'd leaned against the tree trunk next to her, sliding his arm underneath hers. "Not that that means we should stop our own efforts."

"No…of course not." She found herself undoing his shirt, her nimble fingers making their way inside before he could stop them, "Definitely not."

He didn't resist her playfulness, his lips making their way onto hers, wet and hungry. "We could make love right here. What better place to conceive our little Count? On his native soil?"

Alex had laughed. "Is that a challenge?" Her arms wrapped themselves around his neck, pulling him down towards her.

"No, an offer."

"In that case, I accept."

He felt his breathing quicken as her body arched against his. No matter how many times he made love to her, the intensity of his need for her never subsided.

Much later, when their initial urgency was replaced by a lazy sense of contentment, Dimitri used his elbow to prop himself up next to her lying in the grass, beneath the merciful shade of the tree. Her riding blouse was still unbuttoned and he ran a single finger down from the nape of her neck, smiling as it slid smoothly atop the thin layer of perspiration that covered her skin.

Leaves of grass entwined with her long, dark hair and she raised her arm to run a finger along his lips.

"What are you thinking?" he'd asked her, the palm of his hand resting on her stomach now, rising and falling with her breath.

"How lucky I am."

"Promise me something…"

"Yes…"

"Promise me we'll always love each other this much?"

She pulled herself up to kiss him, smiling. "It's the only way I know how to love you."

It was a glorious afternoon.

"_Hey_…"

Dimitri saw a smile that mirrored the one he saw that day as Alex waved her hands in front of his face, jolting him back into the present.

-

"You look like you're a million miles away."

Dimitri picked up his cup of coffee, not surprised to find it was cold. "I was thinking…"

Alex frowned, "It's ironic, isn't it?"

"What?"

"Anna. We've trying so hard to conceive and who ends up pregnant but my newly divorced sister?" Alex wondered whether that persistent feeling of being second best would ever end, especially now that she was no longer a child but a rational adult who was by all means confident in her own skin. Even long before she knew of Anna's existence, Alex had always sensed that _who_ and _what_ she was, wasn't enough. She'd never been the daughter her mother wanted and Charlotte never bothered to hide that from her. _It's not just that I wasn't the daughter you wanted, it's that I_ _wasn't Anna._

Even now, Anna managed to do the one thing she couldn't.

Alex sighed, thankful that Dimitri couldn't read her thoughts. She loved her sister. Loved her generosity and fearlessness and the way she embraced life with an energy that Alex knew she couldn't match. But most of all, she loved Anna for being that other half of her. They were the perfect ying and yang, black and white. Different in so many ways, yet alike in so many more.

She genuinely adored her sister.

And yet...

Dimitri met her gaze, suddenly serious. "Whatever happens, happens. If we weren't meant to have our own children, then I accept that. It doesn't change anything."

Alex nodded. He had a way of doing that. Of humbling her with his love. "I know."

"It's the truth."

Dimitri's eyes met hers as she lowered her voice into a whisper.

"Do you ever think…" she wondered, without meeting his eyes, "Do you ever think we haven't been able to conceive because of the nightmares?"

_Pine Valley, PA_

David slammed down his phone.

"Why do I bother with Alex?" he wondered, staring at the flames in his fireplace. "She hates my guts. Always has, always will." The flames rose high in their stone backdrop, mocking him, like everyone else these days.

Alex had once accused him of murdering her roommate. As if he could somehow be blamed for the inherent weakness of another individual.

"Then, to prove her point, she pushed me down a flight of stairs on New Years Eve…"

How was it possible to know two women, who, on the outside, were mirror images of each other, and to loathe one and love the other?

David sighed as he reclined in his sofa chair. "Alex probably uncorked a bottle of champagne when she found out Anna left me. Who am I kidding to think she'll tell me anything, least of all Anna's whereabouts."

He stared at the interior of the cabin, suddenly aware of how cold and clinical it felt. It was devoid of any charm or cosiness. It looked more like a hotel suite than a home. "There's not even a single picture of Anna..." He rubbed his now two-week-old beard, frowning, "What kind of man doesn't have a single picture of his wife?"

As if to compensate, she was permanently etched in his mind. She was always there, day and night. Sometimes he saw her up close, the way her eyes lit up when she smiled, and other times he'd see her walk towards him, enjoying the way she carried herself when she walked. Even now, his short, useless conversation with Alex only served to bombard him with another memory.

They had been here at the cabin, after a night spent making love. It was raining outside and Anna had just slipped back under the covers after opening the window, to let in the fresh, cool air.

"I think I'm starting to understand why you dislike my sister so much…"

"Oh yeah…" He'd pulled her naked body towards him. "Why is that? Because she's a cold, arrogant, know-it-all?"

Anna pushed him. "Watch it. Without my sister, I might not even be here today."

"They say every bad guy has a redeeming quality. Bringing you to Pine Valley was probably hers."

"She can be a little aloof sometimes, I'll give you that, but underneath it all, she's amazing, David. But I think the real reason you two get on each other's nerves so much is because you're so alike."

"Alike?" He'd nearly chocked. "Tell me you're kidding. Alex and I are nothing alike. I know your sister would be the first to agree with me for a change."

Anna had laughed, her fingers running along his chest. "You're both brilliant doctors, with a God-given gift for healing. Neither of you would contemplate the notion that there's an obstacle or an illness that's too daunting for your genius. Both of you hold this incredible power in your hands, and neither of you is aware of just how much power that gift holds over you. This gift... it's a blessing and a curse at the same time…because it holds you responsible for so much. It's why my sister shut down her practice in London and almost quit medicine. Because she couldn't understand why she couldn't save a terminally child that looked at her with all the hope in the world. It's also why you would test a new drug on yourself rather than deprive the world of its benefits."

Her words had taken him aback. Maybe there was in inkling of truth in them. "That's quite the analysis, Doctor Freud."

"You can't save everyone, David. No matter how gifted you are."

"I know that…"

"I know you_ know_ it, but do you really believe it?"

_I couldn't save our marriage._

The flames of the fireplace were still burning. Still mocking him. Yet he felt chilled, as he had since entering the isolated mountain cabin. He zipped up his leather jacket.

'Maybe you were right. Alex and I do have something in common,' he thought. 'She's only protecting you from someone she thinks will hurt you. I'd have done the same if the tables were turned.'

David saw the small, black address book lying on the coffee table. There was one phone number that he still hadn't called. He leafed through the address book, stopping at the letter 'R'.

_Robin Scorpio_.

David hesitated before picking up the phone again. Robin was his last chance. If Anna wasn't with Robin, David was fast running out of options.

'If Robin doesn't tell me anything, I'll fly to Paris…if she sees me in person, she'll realize that I could never hurt her mother…'

He didn't notice that his hands were shaking when he started to dial the number.

_Paris, France_

Robin Scorpio made a face when she saw her mother emerge from the bathroom, her complexion only slightly less green than when she entered. Anna plopped herself down on the small, brown sofa that occupied a fair chunk of the living room.

"You okay, Mom?"

"Uh huh."

"Maybe I shouldn't go out tonight after all…"

Anna looked at her daughter, raising her eyebrows. "Why not?"

"I don't think you've kept anything down all day…maybe I should try and make you something…"

Anna cringed. "Sweetie, don't even think about it…all you've done all week is study. You need to go out and have some fun."

Robin pursed her lips. "But you're sick."

"I'm not sick. I'm pregnant."

"I could have lots of fun trying to cook up something that you won't throw up twenty minutes later."

Anna bit her lip. The mere thought of smells from the kitchen filling her daughter's tiny apartment was enough to make her stomach lurch. "I don't need a babysitter, really."

Robin eyed her, as if contemplating whether the issue was worth an argument, then shrugged her shoulders. "If you say so…"

"I say so."

Robin adjusted a small, silk scarf around her neck, making Anna smile. Although she knew she was biased, it was no exaggeration to say that her daughter had grown into an exceptionally beautiful young woman. She glowed with an unpretentious elegance that fit well into her fashion conscious Parisian surroundings. Robin's shoulder length hair almost matched her own in colour and her makeup was subtle, serving only to enhance her delicate features.

"By the way, I'm expecting a fax from Alex. She said she'd give me her input on some neurological case studies. It should be about ten to fifteen pages long…I'm pretty sure there's enough paper in the machine…but just in case, will you make sure?"

Anna knew that Alex had been in touch with her daughter since moving to Hungary and that Robin often called her when she needed help with her studies, but only since living here, did she realize just how close the two of them were. She managed a chuckle, "Isn't that cheating?"

Robin looked at her as if amused by the notion. "Nah, not really…well, okay, maybe a little."

Anna smirked. "It's comforting to know you inherited at least a couple of _my_ genes."

"Alex is amazing, Mom. The things she can pick up just from looking at an MRI or a lab sample, it blows my mind."

"I guess you don't get to be a world renowned researcher for nothing."

Robin picked up her purse and keys. "It's kind of intimidating. She makes me wonder whether I'll ever come close to being that kind of physician."

"Oh, you will."

Robin gave her a wave. "We'll see. Bye, Mom. Don't wait up for me."

"Have a good time…" Robin was gone before she had a chance to add, 'And please take a taxi home.'

Anna stared at the apartment door for several long moments after her daughter left, a selfish part of her mildly disappointed that Robin hadn't put up more of an argument to stay home.

'I don't think we've had a single dinner together since I've come to Paris,' she thought regretfully. 'In fact, I don't think we've spent an entire day together yet.'

Robin had been happy about her decision to move to Paris, welcoming her arrival with far more enthusiasm than Anna had expected. Yet, at the same time Anna felt as though she were living with a stranger rather than the daughter she once knew better than herself.

Robin had been kind and welcoming, and yet, there was something odd. Something Anna couldn't quite put a finger on.

'She's keeping you at arms length,' she realized.

Anna heard the beeping sound of an incoming fax and got up to collect the papers. 'That and she's always studying.'

She saw the photocopied illustrations and writings from a medical textbook, interspersed, between paragraphs, with her sister's messy handwriting. There was a personal note at the end.

'_The fifth one was a brilliant deduction, absolutely brilliant! I think you're off on the third and sixth. See the notes. I've left the last one blank for you, it's tricky but take a close look at the chiasmatic cistern, it should tell you something. Good luck genius! love, Alex'_

Anna smirked as she put the papers in order and placed them on her daughter's desk. Her own knowledge of the natural sciences didn't extend far beyond the Periodic Table of Elements.

Robin usually left the apartment in the early morning hours, and often didn't return until late at night. She'd tried to explain to her mother that these were normal rigours of med school, but even so Anna thought she worked too much. She studied too hard and spent impossibly long hours at the university's laboratories.

It was as though she forgot that she was HIV positive.

Anna ran her fingers along the dozen containers of pills in her daughter's room. The thought of everything Robin had to do to stay healthy could break her heart like nothing else. 'It's not fair…it's not fair you got this disease, baby. Not you.' Anna picked up an almost empty bottle, wanting to curse its presence, as she stared at the ceiling. "Why would you give her a burden like that? Why? What did she ever do to deserve this?"

No matter how much Anna prodded, Robin refused to discuss her illness. Why exactly, Anna didn't know. It was a mystery to her, like so many things about her daughter now were. Maybe she wanted to ignore it rather than structure her life around it. '_That_ I can understand,' Anna thought. It was something she might have done as well. Like mother, like daughter.

'Or maybe it would only make it apparent that you do need someone to look after you…and you'd suffer in silence rather than admit as much. Especially to your mother.'

Anna set down the bottle of pills and sat down on her daughter's bed. There was a picture on the bedside table, of her and Robin and Robert. Robin was in the middle, smiling, happy and carefree as any eight year old could be.

'I used to know you so well,' she thought. 'There was a time when I could tell whether you were lying or not, just by looking in your eyes. Now I can barely tell whether you're telling me the truth when you tell me; 'I'm fine, Mom.''

Anna glanced at her watch. It was almost nine o'clock. She'd planned to call Sean Donely tonight, her old friend and mentor who was back working for the WSB again. Sean still had enough connections in the world of intelligence and law enforcement to help her land a position as a Paris liaison for Scotland Yard or even with Interpol. Finding a job in Paris with her minimal French was going to mean asking for all the help she could get, not that re-establishing her friendship with Sean Donely was a difficult thing do to. After she'd spoken to him twice since coming to Paris, she realized how much she missed his steady presence in her life.

He'd always been more than a friend to her. He'd been her mentor, her partner and a constant, unflinching ally. He was the man who gave her away at her wedding to Robert.

Now, he'd gone back to the WSB after leaving Port Charles. He worked out of Boston now, where he lived with his wife, Tiffany, another long lost friend, with whom she really never should have lost touch.

'I could still call him,' Anna thought. 'It's only three o'clock in Boston.'

Instead, she heard the sound of the phone ringing in the living room. It was the third time it rang today. It rang twice before when Robin was away at school. Anna made no move to answer it now. With the exception of Sean, Alex and Jackson Montgomery, no one knew she was here. It was probably one of Robin's friends, and Anna knew her command of French was too poor to take a half comprehensible message, so she let it ring.

'If it's for me, they'll leave a message,' she thought.

Going outside, she stared at the phone and waited for the red light to start flashing. When it didn't she sat back down on the sofa, staring at her surroundings.

Robin's apartment was small. Actually small was too kind an adjective; _tiny_ and _cramped_ would be more suitable. The apartment was barely big enough for one person, never mind two.

'I have to find a job and a place to live,' Anna reminded herself. She hated that almost a month after arriving here, she'd managed to do neither.

In fact, simply keeping herself from throwing up at the mere smell of food had taken up a good portion of her time and energy in Paris.

'This is _nothing_ like when I carried Robin,' she thought woefully. This time she was exhausted from the moment she woke up in the morning, to the time she fell asleep at night, the hours in between often a blur of nausea and a dull, persistent headache that never quite went away. The only time she did feel as though she could stomach anything edible was in the middle of the night, craving things that no sane, young woman would keep in a Parisian refrigerator.

Lemon sorbet. Smoked salmon. Capers and dill pickles. Crackers and blackcurrant jelly with green, sour apples.

Anna massaged her temples and leaned against the sofa's headrest. 'These are going to be the longest five months of my life...'

"I should really call Sean…" she mumbled to herself, making no move towards the phone as her eyelids started to close.

She was asleep in less than a minute.

_Later_

It was the sound of the bathroom door opening that woke Anna up.

She rubbed her eyes sleepily, chilled. She hadn't bother to cover herself with a blanket before falling asleep. "Robin?"

The clock on the wall said it was 10:30 at night. Barely ninety minutes after Robin had left the apartment.

"Sweetie, what are you doing back so soon?"

Her daughter emerged from the bathroom, wearing a red flannel nightgown, strands of her shoulder length hair pushed behind her ears. Gone was subtle makeup and the delicate silk scarf she'd worn earlier.

She looked barely older than fourteen now.

Only on closer inspection did Anna notice that Robin's face was at once pale and flushed.

"I didn't feel so good so I came home."

Anna's heart skipped a beat. "Should we go to a hospital?"

Robin rolled her eyes. "I'm not _dying, _Mom… I just don't feel so good."

"But with the HIV, even a minor thing like a cold or, heaven forbid, the flu…"

"Mom, _I know!_" Robin interrupted her. "I'm pretty sure I don't have a cold… it's just the change in my meds. The doctor said it was possible my body would react to it sooner or later."

"But what if it isn't that? Sweetie, you don't look good."

"I'm just tired, that's all. I'm going to bed now. I'm sure I'll be fine tomorrow."

"Let me make you some tea. Chamomile or peppermint, whichever you prefer."

Robin frowned, leaning against her bedroom door. "No, it's fine. I don't want any tea."

But Anna was already up. "I'll bring it to you, in bed, before you fall asleep…"

"Mom, stop it!"

Anna winced at the frustration in her daughter's voice. "I just want to look after you..."

Robin's weary gaze lingered on her, and there was a trace of anger on her face now. "You haven't looked after me for the last ten years, Mom. You don't have to start now."

The words stung like a knife.

Anna felt her face flush, "I'm sorry, sweetheart, I …I didn't…"

Robin lowered her eyes, wishing she didn't feel a hint of triumph when she saw the hurt in her mother's eyes. "Look, I'm sorry…I didn't mean that. I'm just tired, Mom."

"I know..." Anna nodded, not sure what else to say. "It's...okay."

Robin didn't have the energy to tell her otherwise, even though it wasn't. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, sweetie. I love you."

She wanted to follow her daughter, to tuck her in, take her temperature and hold her close, for as long as it took to make sure she knew how much she loved her.

_How long would that have to be? _

But part of her began to understand that Robin wasn't ready for that. Perhaps she wouldn't be for some time.

_You haven't looked after me for the last ten years, Mom. You don't have to start now._

Anna got up and hugged herself in the chill of the room. She stood next to its lone window. She pulled the curtains aside and stared outside. A thin, milky mist covered the outline of the nearby rooftops, leaving the City of Lights surprisingly dark and murky.

'If you don't look better by tomorrow morning, I don't care how angry you are with me; I'm dragging you off to a hospital. If I have to tie you up and knock you out to do it, so be it. Don't think it would be the first time I've done that to someone I love.'

A tiny smile made its way to the corner of her lips, as she fought back tears.

Anna didn't believe in self-pity. She never had and never would. In life, you weren't always dealt the best cards; that was part of the game. It didn't mean you could throw them to the ground and weep in defeat. It meant that as long as you still had a chance of winning, you kept playing.

She felt a solitary tear make its way down her cheek and wiped it away angrily.

She was in foreign city where she barely spoke the language. Without a job or a place to call her own. Or even a friend to confide in.

Living with a daughter she no longer knew.

Dealing with a pregnancy that was determined to test every inch of her strength.

And no matter how often she tried to deny it. She missed him. She missed him so much that it hurt.

As if in defiance of her earlier gesture, more tears followed the first, reminding her of their power over her.

She didn't bother to wipe them away this time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_Andrassy Estate, Vadsel, Hungary_

_She was alone in the sterile, white room. Alone, until a door opened and three men entered. Three large men in lab coats as white as the walls. _

_A woman followed them. An older woman with a lingering smile on her thin lips._

"_Good morning, Sasha." _

_Alex shook her head, "Don't…" _

"_Oh, Sasha, stop putting up a fight. It's so silly. So futile. And it's not like you. It's not as though it's my fault you're so confused." _

_Alex saw one of the men draw a syringe, while the two others moved to pin her down._

_The smile vanished from Charlotte Devane's lips. "God, I'm so tired of you fighting me instead of working on my side. You're supposed to be my daughter." _

_The syringe came closer, its tip touching her forearm. Her voice sounded far away to her own ears. "Please, don't…not again." _

"_No!"_

_-_

"Alex!"

Alex's eyes were wide open now. She caught her breath in the darkness of the room, recoiling when she felt someone grab her arm.

"Darling…it's me…Dimitri."

Alex stared at him, obviously disoriented. She was sitting upright in their bed and threw off the covers to get up, opening the old, heavy window as soon as she got to it.

"I need some air..." Dimitri heard her mumble. Breathless.

He saw her silhouette by the window, in the darkness. She stood there in silence, and he waited, until she was ready to join him again.

Dimitri rubbed her back when she sat back down on the bed. "It was just a dream." He brushed her hair from her face and saw the perspiration on her forehead. "You want to tell me about it?"

He knew what the answer would be before he saw her shake her head in the darkness.

Her nightmares started a few weeks after they arrived at Vadsel.

Dimitri had been convinced that coming here was the best thing for Alex. She felt at home here. At home and at peace, and he'd never seen her as relaxed as when she was here, amidst the horses and the gentle hills that surrounded his paradise.

Before coming here, their relationship had been a roller coaster of chaos and turmoil.

He was dying when they met.

The very first thing he'd asked of her was to save his life; to use her knowledge and determination to give him back his very existence.

Then there was his 'death'. The sudden resurgence of Charlotte Devane. Anna's return to the land of the living and lastly, his cousin, Gillian's, death.

'We never even had a honeymoon,' he thought, in hindsight. 'You saved my life and I didn't even give you a honeymoon.'

But it was when things finally calmed down that her demons came back to haunt her.

The first time she had a nightmare, Alex had woken up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, tears streaming down her face.

The sight of her that night had worried him and broken his heart all at once. It wasn't fair. The past was behind them now. It had no right to come roaring back like this.

Not knowing what else to do, he'd held her that night. His arms fell asleep before she did and Dimitri had been confident that his love for her could overcome any obstacle no matter how great.

Yet the nightmares didn't go away. No matter how much he loved her. Or how happy they were. Sometimes they came several times a week, other times, once or twice a month. Because he'd always been a man of action and couldn't do a single thing to help her, he felt as frustrated as Alex. Maybe more so.

"Darling, you _have_ to do something," he'd told her one night, not long ago. Because she was crying, his words had been gentle. Soothing.

"They'll stop," was all she said then, pulling a blanket over her body. Shivering. It was partly true. They did stop but they always came back. And their hold on her was starting to take its toll.

"Alex, these nightmares, they're making you sick." It was the truth. Some nights he'd watch her run off to the bathroom as soon as she woke up.

"They'll stop." It was what she always said. Dimitri wondered whom she was trying to convince: him or herself.

Tonight was further proof that they didn't stop.

"What did you dream?" he asked her.

She stared past him, into space. "I was at the institution. The one where I was kept for such a long time…and Charlotte was…I couldn't make sense of anything. I didn't know where I was or why I was there…and the men, they…" She started to cry, burying her face in her hands. "Dimitri, I can't…"

Dimitri frowned, hating his helplessness. He put an arm around her shoulders. "It's alright."

"I'm sorry."

He shook his head, "Don't…don't apologize for this, Alex."

He watched as she got up and threw off the bedcover, a hand over her mouth as she ran out of the bedroom. Dimitri frowned when she came back, paler than when she left. "Darling…you okay?"

"Better."

Dimitri gave her a gentle push back onto the bed, covering her with a blanket when he saw she was still shivering.

"Do you want me to get you some tea or water?"

Alex shook her head.

"It might help your stomach."

"I'm fine, really."

He ran a hand through her hair in the darkness. "You're _not_ fine."

Alex turned towards him, her eyes letting him know what she couldn't put into words. That she was grateful. "I will be," she answered softly.

"I want to help you, Alex."

Alex reached for him. "I don't know how I ever lived without you."

"You won't ever have to again."

"You want me to see a shrink, don't you?"

"I didn't say that. I said I want to _help_ you."

"I won't go."

"I won't force you." Dimitri moved a hand under her chin, insisting her eyes met his. She had to know he was on her side. "I promise you." After he married her, Dimitri had asked her the impossible; to keep his illness from his family, to tell them he had died if need be. Anything to keep them from seeing him as a lifeless shell of his former self.

Even though it had made her an instant enemy to his brother Edmund, Alex had followed his wishes and kept her promise. It might not have been the kind thing, the logical thing or even the right thing to do but it was what _he_ needed in order to retain a semblance of dignity. And because Alex had done that for him, he'd sworn to himself that he'd never do anything less for her.

If she didn't want professional help, Dimitri wouldn't press. He'd find another way to help her.

Alex didn't know it, but he _had_ gone to consult a psychiatrist on his own. The doctor in question was an old family friend; a pillar of discretion who had counselled several Maricks and many other members of Hungarian royalty in years past.

His name was Andras Horvath and he sported glasses and a thick white beard. He'd greeted Dimitri with a smile the day he'd gone to see him.

"Count Andrassy, it's such a pleasure to see you looking so well. Prince Bela informed me of your illness. For a while my wife and I feared the worst."

Dimitri returned his smile then. "You're not the only one. There were a lot of physicians who wouldn't give me a life expectancy of more than a few months. But then I went to London and found a new doctor."

"So I heard. Dr. Alexandra Devane, pioneer in stem cell research…"

"It's Doctor _Marick_ now."

The old man lifted his glasses, broadening his smile; "Yes, I heard that as well. Congratulations are in order."

Dimitri sat down. "Thank you. Had the wedding been a little less spontaneous, you can be certain you would have been on the guest list."

The doctor's expression turned serious. "So what brings you here today, Count Andrassy?"

"Please. Call me Dimitri. I've lived in the United States too long for such formalities. I'm not here for myself," he admitted. "I'm here for my wife."

The old man clasped his hands and gave Dimitri a puzzled look. "Your wife?"

"She's been having these nightmares. They wake her up in the middle of the night, terrified and I don't know what to do…how to help her stop them."

"They've been going on how long?"

"A few months."

"Did your wife have any traumatic experiences before they began."

"Not...immediately prior, no. A long time ago her mother committed her to an institution. The entire time period is a blank for her. I don't believe her mother was ever justified for commiting her to an institution, but Alex isn't convinced. She has this... fear. This fear that she lost her mind once and that it could happen again." It was ironic that Alex, one of the world's leading experts on diseases that afflicted the mind, had no greater fear than losing control of her own.

The old man leaned back in his well-worn leather chair. "I'm not sure what to tell you, Dimitri. In order to help your wife, I need to see her, talk to her. I'm a psychiatrist not a psychic."

Dimitri managed a smile. "I know…this must seem like an unusual request. But she won't come here and I respect her wishes."

"You can tell her I don't bite."

"You see…for her, coming to see you would be like admitting that she _is_ losing her mind."

The doctor ran a hand through his beard looking at Dimitri pensively. "The mind is a complex machine, Dimitri, I'm sure your wife would be the first to agree with me when I say that. Sometimes it protects us from the things we're incapable of dealing with, erasing them from our memories until we're strong enough to handle them. The fact that she's remembering something she buried long ago, even if it is in the form of nightmares, might mean that she's able to deal with the past now. It certainly doesn't mean she's ready for a straight jacket and a padded cell."

Dimitri managed a chuckle. "Good…glad to hear it. But until then...until I convince _her_ of that fact, I need to know if there's anything I can do for her…anything at all."

"I can prescribe a sedative for her, something to help her sleep…but without having seen her, I'd prefer not to."

"I understand..." Dimitri interrupted him. "I'm not even sure she'd want that. But in the meantime, there has to be _something_ I can do for her."

The old man hesitated, his gaze still pensive. "Well...think of the things that take her mind _off_ the past. Things that fulfill her and make her happy."

"She wants to practice medicine, but she's not licensed here and frankly…" Dimitri paused, with a smirk. "No matter how hard she tries, I don't think she'll ever speak Hungarian."

"Your wife is an exceptional researcher. I haven't read her works simply because her field is not in my league, but her reputation precedes her. It would be a crime not to have her practice, research or teach."

The man's words had made him wonder then whether he'd been selfish to bring Alex to a country where she'd be able to do none of the above.

"There are other things she's passionate about, yes?"

"Sure…she likes to help her niece with her medical studies, and horses. She also loves the horses as much as I do."

"Well then, use those things to get her mind off whatever is troubling her…and if that doesn't work, do bring her in next time, will you?"

Dimitri chuckled. "Maybe if she knew just how charming you were, she wouldn't protest quite so much."

The psychiatrist had laughed. "You tell her that. And remind her that even the best doctors need help in healing sometimes."

"Will do. Thank you, doctor."

The old man's words played in his head tonight.

_Think of the things that can take her mind off the past. Things that fulfill her and make her happy. _

Dimitri bent down to kiss the nape of his wife's neck, content to see that the gesture brought the hint of a smile to her lips and a trace of colour back into her face, "I was thinking…the black yearling we looked at with Joszef a little while ago. Do you remember him?"

"The one you want to sell?"

"Tempus Fugit, yes. I think I've decided to keep him."

"Hmm…what made you change your mind?" She turned on her back to face him, her voice steadier now.

Dimitri shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not sure. Just a gut instinct that there's something special about him."

"I thought breaking him was going to take too much time?"

Dimitri closed his eyes, wondering if he'd regret what he was about to suggest. "Do you really think you could do it?" he asked her, already knowing she wouldn't give him the answer he wanted to hear.

"Oh yes...definitely."

It was what he expected. And dreaded. Yet in spite of his qualms, he liked the sudden determination in her eyes. It was a look he knew all too well.

Alex smiled and pulled him towards her. "You're not just saying that to make me feel better now and then you'll change your mind in the morning, are you?"

Dimitri grinned. "No…and yes…I won't change my mind in the morning, even if I hate the idea. I'm good for my word, you know that."

Alex kissed him. "You are. I love you. So much."

He let her embrace him, moving his hand to turn off the bedside lamp. "I know. Come here..." He felt her relax in his arms, her body soft and warm against his and the beating of her heart slowing in the silence of the room.

He was keeping the demons at bay. For another day.

_Paris, France_

Robin yawned when she stepped out into the living room, her eyes focused on her mother sleeping on the sofa. At night it converted into a pull out bed, but Robin soon noticed that her mother rarely bothered to pull it out. Instead she usually slept with her head against the armrest, her knees pulled up against her stomach. Often, as was the case this morning, she didn't even bother to change into a nightgown.

"That can't possibly be good for you or for the baby. How can you get a good night's rest like that?"

She caught her mother moving a subconscious hand towards her stomach as if wanting to protect her unborn child. The gesture didn't surprise Robin.

"That's so typical of you, Mom…" Her mother had a fiercely protective streak. She never hesitated to risk everything in order to keep those she loved from harm, even at her own expense. Her mother was strong and fearless; two intrinsic qualities she shared with her father and Robin had spent her childhood firmly believing that nothing could ever bring her parents down. Nothing. Until the day both of them didn't come back home.

Dead.

"And then my world turned upside down."

She moved to cover her mother with the blanket that had begun a slow slide towards the floor, when suddenly she heard the phone ring. Robin jumped to answer it, hoping to catch it before the second ring, so as not to wake her mom.

No such luck. It rang again and Robin saw her mother stir into wakefulness.

She picked up the receiver and answered in French. '_Allo_?' The voice on the other end made her straighten her spine in anticipation of the upcoming interrogation.

David Hayward.

"I told you my Mom's not here…you know I can't tell you that…of course I know." Robin moved a finger towards her lips, motioning for her mother to stay still. "Look, she's not here! Sure you can come and check for yourself. Be my guest. Waste your time and your money. If she wanted to talk to you she would. Trust me."

Robin's expression changed as she held the receiver against her ear.

"Fine…fine, I will. But please don't call here anymore."

Anna bit her fingernail when she saw Robin put down the receiver. "David?"

Robin smirked. "How'd you guess?"

"Thanks for that." Anna sat up and pulled the wayward blanket towards her shoulders.

Robin leaned against the wall. "You don't have to thank me, Mom. He wanted me to tell you that he loves you. He says he needs to talk to you and that there are things you need to know." Robin tried to read the expression on her mother's face. "And for what it's worth, he sounded sincere."

"I bet he did."

"If you decided to start a family, you must have loved each other," Robin argued. "Isn't there still some way you could work things out?"

Anna shook her head. "Sometimes love isn't enough. Some things can't be forgiven."

"What did he do that was so bad?"

Anna wasn't willing to go there. Not now. "Please, let's not talk about David. I want to know how _you're_ feeling this morning."

Robin eyed her mother. "I'm fine. I told you I was just tired last night."

"You didn't look, 'just tired', Robin."

"Really that's all it was. Just because I'm HIV positive doesn't mean every time I'm stressed or get a headache I'm going to die. I have midterms coming up in less than a month. All that studying_ is_ tiring."

"I know but…" She noticed a look of exasperation make its way into Robin's expression and she stopped in mid sentence.

Anna also noticed that Robin had her backpack in hand. "Are you heading out already?"

Robin nodded. "Yup. I'll see you later tonight."

"What about breakfast?"

"I'll stop at a café on Rue des Lapins."

"I could make you something…"

Robin made a face. "Now just because _you're_ puking all day doesn't mean you have to subject me to…"

Anna threw a pillow at her. "Funny."

The action elicited a laugh from her daughter.

"Seriously, sweetie. You should eat something."

"I don't have time, Mom." She was already halfway out the door. "I'll see you later."

"Will you let me take you out for dinner then?"

"I can't tonight. Maybe tomorrow."

She was gone before Anna had a chance to say anything else.

An elaborately framed picture of a thoroughbred horse stared back at her instead. It hung next to the apartment door. A gift from Alex.

'Maybe _you_ could explain to me why my daughter's avoiding me like the plague?' she asked the horse.

Anna smiled a lopsided smile. Although in her former days she attended a fair share of races and could decipher racing forms as well as anyone, she knew next to nothing about horses. Standard bred, quarter horse, thoroughbred…they were all just ponies to her.

'I'm not sure I could tell an Arabian apart from a Lipizaner…' Riding was just one _more_ thing at which her sister excelled.

"It's an elegant sport and it suits you perfectly, sis," she whispered aloud.

A glimpse of the phone made her want to pick it up and call her sister. She hadn't spoken to Alex in well over a week and knew it was her turn to make the call.

_I could really use yet another person telling me how misguided I was to marry David Hayward_

"Stop it," she chided herself aloud. "Give her some credit, would you? She's been close to Robin. Maybe she can give you some insight on her."

Since when did she need someone else to figure out her own daughter?

She started to dial her sister's number, but stopped herself mid-way.

Alex had always been the wiser of the two of them. For every wrong choice Anna made, Alex made the right one. A noble career, an adoring husband. Doctor, healer, scientist. Alexandra Marick might have been her mirror image, but at times it seemed like she was her polar opposite.

'She loves you,' Anna reminded herself. 'So much so that she risked everything to help you leave Canada and find your way back home.'

Anna adored her sister. Admired her, respected her…the list could go on. She also felt a sincere pride for her achievements.

'My beautiful, brilliant big sis. All I do is complicate your life with my problems and my sordid past.' Anna wasn't sure that Alex _was_ older; in fact certain pieces of evidence made her suspect the opposite. It just seemed as though she _should_ be, even if she wasn't.

Anna owed her a call. Owed her more than that, really.

Instead she picked up the phone and dialled another newly familiar number.

"Hey it's me…how are you?"

Sean Donely was on the other end. His easy humour relaxed her instantly.

"No…not quite," she laughed. "I dare _you_ to come here and learn French in a month. Sure you could. So you say."

"You did? Oh god, that's great news…yes, yes. Give me a second, I have to find a pen." She felt her nausea rise as soon as she stood up. "Yes…I'm ready…" Anna wrote down the address he gave her, a smile on her face.

_Liaison Officer for Scotland Yard's Paris office_. It would be a desk job. For now. As much as she hated the thought of spending her time in an office, she had to admit it was all her difficult pregnancy could handle for the time being. Working alongside both Scotland Yard and Interpol would allow her back into the world of international law enforcement and intelligence. It required only conversational French, and most importantly it would keep her in Paris, close to her daughter.

'Once I get my life in order, I can concentrate on Robin. And maybe then… I can begin to figure her out again.'

_Paris, France_

"She's here."

Cesar Faison made the observation while staring out the window of his combined apartment and office.

He held a near empty glass of cognac in his hand and raised the gold coloured liquid up against the sunset in the horizon. The last rays of the sun lit up the liqueur, as though it was on fire. The sight made him smile, as did the Eiffel Tower in the distance.

In Paris, finding a viable apartment was akin to winning the lottery. Finding one with a view of the city's most famous structure was much more than that. It was a status symbol, like living in London and having a Bentley parked in the driveway. In the City of Lights it meant you were _someone._

"Pardon me?" Jan Hallstrom, his personal assistant and right hand man, pulled a magnifying glass away from his eyes and looked at Faison.

"Is said, '_she's here'_. In Paris."

"Who?"

"Anna Devane."

The Swede rolled a tiny diamond between his thumb and index finger, before turning to give Faison a sceptical look. "We knew that, from the day she arrived, over a month ago."

"Having her here…_so close_. It changes everything," Faison explained.

"We can relocate to our Brussels office until she leaves, if her being here makes things difficult for you," he suggested.

"Difficult isn't the word I was thinking of." He paused, wanting to put into words the inexplicable. "I _feel_ her presence."

Jan sighed an inaudible sigh. Cesar Faison was a brilliant man and Anna Devane was his one weakness. His one downfall. For that alone, Jan hated her.

"It makes me realize how much I miss her…"

"She tried to kill you," Jan reminded him.

"Anna has changed. _I've_ changed."

"But circumstances haven't." Jan knew where this was headed and cringed.

"I want to see her."

Jan's eyes widened, "That's not possible. You know that."

Cesar Faison turned around, his expression sombre, "I didn't _ask_ you to see her. I said I _want_ to see her." He cared for Jan as much as he was capable of caring for anyone. He appreciated the man's wisdom, as well as his steadfast loyalty, and he would never have tolerated such an outright admonishment from anyone else. Yet even Jan needed an occasional reminder that he wasn't his equal.

Jan nodded, sadly. "I know you do…but we both know you can't." He poured the diamonds back into their silk pouch. "Maybe I should start making plans to move to Brussels…"

"No."

"It would be for the best."

"I want to see her."

Jan's fear mounted. "You can't. The deal. _You_ made a deal."

Cesar frowned at its mention. It was dark outside now, the sun had sunk into the horizon like a heavy, red globe into quicksand.

He set down his now empty cognac glass on the windowsill. His frown deepened, creasing both sides of his scarred, aging face.

"Perhaps it's time to break the deal."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Memories!_ Memories are like glow flies darting across the surface of my mind, showing me here and there images so sharp and vivid that I catch my breath in wonder before the vignette disappears, sinking like a pebble into the quicksand of regret and recrimination."_

_-_

_50 miles outside of Kisangani, Democratic Republic of Congo, Africa_

The man picked up a pair of binoculars and focused on the dense jungle ahead.

"So you're absolutely certain it will happen here? Tonight?"

The man turned around, eyeing the black woman that stood next to him. "I'm never certain about these things, you know that. I have a hunch, that's all. I hope it's right."

"Your hunches didn't turn out last week. Or the week before."

She had a French accent when she spoke, making the word sound like '_unches_'.

The man wiped a thin line of sweat from his forehead. It was barely 6am and already the heat and humidity of the jungle permeated inch of his skin. His loose clothes stuck to him and the air felt as though it was thick enough to drink. A never-ending hum of insects buzzed in his ears. A flying cockroach settled itself on his partner's shoulder and he flung it off with a quick flick of his fingers.

Sandrine Mutanga smiled at him, her white teeth gleaming in the first rays of sunlight. "Thanks."

The man grinned back at her, putting down his binoculars. "What would you do if I didn't watch your back?"

"I would probably be dead."

It was true. He'd saved her life more than once. The arrogant Australian with the week-old beard and the clear blue eyes had been many things to her. Mentor and friend. Lover and saviour.

His name was Roger Saunders but, as he casually explained to her on their first meeting, almost three years ago, he used Robert instead. "It's my middle name," he had explained. "I prefer it."

"_Robert, c'est le nom do mon parrain_," she'd told him that day, not knowing what else to say. She'd been shy then and it had been her first assignment with the WSB. She assumed he spoke French but he didn't.

He'd laughed at her pronunciation and spoke in an English accent that she had trouble understanding. "_Ro_bert, not Row_bear_," he had corrected her, imitating the way she said his name.

She had blushed, hating that he mocked her on their very first encounter.

It would be fair to say their working relationship went downhill from there. The more time Sandrine spent with _Ro_bert, the more she hated him. He hardly spoke to her. When he did it was usually to correct her about something.

In fact, he corrected her _all the time. _From the way she cleaned her weapon to the way she filed her reports. He always found something wrong. He seemed to know everything about her, yet divulged nothing about himself. She didn't know where he came from, how long he'd been with the WSB, whether he was married, single or divorced. All she knew was that he barely spoke French and that his accent was neither British nor American nor South African.

One day, like the straw that broke the camel's back, it got to her.

It had been an unbearably hot day and the ceiling fan in their office spun around fast and futile. Robert was ignoring her, as usual, his attention focused instead on a report she'd written. Sandrine knew it would be a matter of seconds before he'd point out something that wasn't to his liking.

She glared at him when he wasn't looking, wanting to beat him to the punch. Wanting to be quick and witty for once.

Instead, tears filled her eyes out of nowhere and she blurted out the only thought that came to her mind: "Why are you so awful to me? What is it about me that is making you so miserable?"

Robert set down the report, turning around to look at her, completely perplexed. _"What?"_

"Is it because I'm a woman? Is it because I'm African?"

"Excuse me?"

"Do you _hate_ me?"

"Hate you?" The question took him aback. "Why would I hate you?"

"You tell me that I do everything wrong…all the time. _Everything!_"

Robert offered her a half-apologetic glance. He knew he had been hard on her. Too hard maybe. He knew he was hard on others because he was hard on himself. It was a tough habit to break.

"Not _everything_," he corrected her.

His amusement made her want to strangle him. She raised her hands in exasperation. "Even_ now_ you're correcting me!"

Robert held up his hands in mock surrender, his blue eyes finally softening.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" Sandrine asked him.

Robert shook his head. "If I thought you were stupid I'd have refused to work with you."

His answer left her dumbfounded and she was silent.

"You do a lot of stupid things," he admitted. "Your target skills are rudimentary at best. You have virtually no investigative instinct and an appalling inability to sense danger."

Sandrine felt her tears well up again, angry and defensive. "I graduated at the top of my class at the University of Kinshasa…I have a degree in law and this job is only…"

"Is only a stepping stone," Robert cut her off. "I know. I know that you're very smart. You speak not only French but also Lingala, Munukutuba, Likwala, Mbosi, Teke and…" His smile was cocky again, "And a bit of English. That means you can communicate with just about every faction of this senseless war. You know this country like the back of your hand. You know its tribes and customs better than anyone else here. You're an invaluable asset to the WSB and they know it. That's why I'm bothering to correct your mistakes…because I'd like you to stay alive long enough so you can use this stepping stone to get yourself that plum little ambassadorial position with the UN that we both know you're after."

His comments had left her speechless.

"If I hated you, I'd let you make your mistakes. I'd say nothing," he finished, running a hand through his dark blond hair.

In a nation that consisted of two distinct classes; the rich, ruling elite, and the voiceless, poverty-ridden masses, Sandrine knew she was lucky to be a member of the former. Her father was an Oxford educated tribal chief, who had made it a point to send all twelve of his children to the most exclusive private schools in France and Switzerland, while at the same time instilling in them a fierce pride of their African origins.

In other words, Sandrine thought nothing of quoting Rousseau in the morning and participating in a bloodletting ceremony at night.

The youngest of twelve, Sandrine knew she was her father's favourite. She had a keen, inquisitive mind coupled with a striking good looks.

It was her father, the man she respected more than anyone in the world, that convinced her to join the World Security Bureau rather than the Foreign Service.

"The presence of the WSB is a good thing for Zaire," he had told her, preferring his country's former French name. "They will help us control the sale of diamonds for weapons and help us end this war that has torn us apart for so long." His face was stern and serious when he had looked at her. "The only problem is that there are not enough Africans in the WSB. It's time for Africans to fight for Africa and for justice, Sandi…not each other." He paused, his gaze never leaving hers. "You've studied the law and you know Zaire. You know its people and its struggles. They will accept you with open arms."

And so she joined the World Security Bureau, whose presence in the Congo was commissioned by the United Nations. She joined not because she had a particular interest in becoming a field agent, but because it had never occurred to her to go against her father's wishes.

Because she was smart, beautiful and resilient, things had always come easily to Sandrine. Even in a patriarchal world, she never had to fight for someone's respect. Not until the day they paired her with the surly Australian who found fault in everything she did, from the way she pronounced his name to the way she held her semi-automatic.

After only two weeks of his endless haranguing, she went home to her father to tell him the WSB wasn't meant for her, fully expecting him to understand.

Instead of the support she expected, he offered her his wrath, "You are _my_ daughter! A chief's daughter! A chief's daughter doesn't run away because someone corrects her when she's holding a gun. Perhaps he's right. Hunting never _was_ your best skill!"

"But, Father…"

"You will do this job, Sandi, for at least one year. If in one year you feel the way you do today, I promise you I will find you a position in the Foreign Service."

So she went back to her job and to Roger Saunders, both of whom she now loathed.

Instead of attending social functions at embassies in London and Paris, she found herself journeying into the heart of her homeland, through jungle terrain so dense it was impassable without a scythe, straight into a decade old civil war that was tearing her nation apart at the seams.

In the two years that followed, she would see severed children's limbs, scattered alongside dirt roads. Corpses whose stench of decomposition was so strong it lingered in her nostrils for days afterwards. When the sights made her ill, it was Robert who held her when she threw up. And when the senselessness and brutality of it all made her weep, it was Robert who comforted her.

While working for the WSB, Sandrine learned everything there was to know about diamonds and about the weapons that their brilliance could buy. She began to loathe the stones that had brought her country such wealth and at the same time divided her people into a bitter race for their rewards.

Once, during an assignment, she was held hostage for two days, by Rwandan rebels in a jungle hut without food or water, released only because Robert had bargained for her life as though it was his own.

Then a few months ago she nearly died when she was bitten by a poisonous spider, needing every ounce of her resilience to hang on until Robert was able to administer an antidote.

Sandrine could now load a round of ammunition in five seconds flat and track human movement over forty-eight hours after it occurred. She could also survive in the jungle alone, for as long as a week, using only the food and shelter its trees and animals provided.

More importantly, she fell in love with the man who taught her everything.

Three years since their first meeting, Roger Robert Saunders was still a mystery to her. Physically he was an unassuming man. He was only slightly taller than her and his thinning hair was a sandy, light brown. His lips were often set in a scowl and the only thing that set him apart from the other white men she worked with was a pair of striking blue eyes that were always alert.

He could be moody and unforgiving, often not speaking with her for hours at a time when she did something to anger him. She had watched him kill another human being in cold blood, without so much as a moment's hesitation. Killing someone that posed a threat to them was an act that left him strangely devoid of remorse, and yet, she'd also seen him cry when he held a dying child soldier in his arms.

Sandrine had never met anyone who could be as harsh and as gentle as Robert was. He was unapologetically arrogant, a fact that netted him few friends. Yet atthe same time he had deep humility and respect for the things in life he knew were greater than him.

It was impossible not to fall in love with him.

Sandrine became his lover. She knew that he cared deeply for her and would have given his life for her. Yet, she also knew that no matter how much of herself she gave to him, he'd wouldn't be able to do the same. There were parts of him that she'd never know. Never truly understand.

She didn't know whether he loved her the way she loved him. Maybe he loved her as much as he was able to love anyone. Robert was a man who had built so many walls around him, that Sandrine wondered whether it was even possible to begin tearing them down.

Now as she stared into the jungle, where his hunch was telling them that a tiny batch of diamonds would be exchanged for machine guns tonight, Sandrine realized that she knew far too little about him.

'I do know one thing,' she decided. 'Robert is a good man. And the WSB now thinks he's playing both sides of the game.'

Last night, her superiors had asked her the impossible.

They wanted her to spy on the man she loved.

_Andrassy Estate, Vadsel, Hungary_

"_Alex!"_

Dimitri's eyes widened in shock when he saw the horse rear itself, flinging her from its back as though she were a rag doll. "Oh God…"

He ran towards the spot where she fell, dropping to his knees on the ground when he got to her.

She was lying on the grass, her eyes slowly focusing on him.

"Sweetheart, are you alright?"

She nodded, as if contemplating the question. "Uh…huh."

He ran a hand along her body. "Does it hurt anywhere?"

"Mmm…" she groaned, her lips twisting into a lopsided smile. "Everywhere."

She used one of her hands to pull him down towards her. "Kiss and make it better."

Dimitri frowned, too rattled by what he'd just witnessed to appreciate her humour. "Jesus Christ, this isn't funny, Alex."

"Ah come on…this isn't the first time I've fallen off a horse. I'm sure it won't be the last."

Dimitri's frown deepened when he saw the ornery yearling guiltily make its way back to them. "This isn't just any horse. We're talking about the fastest, most unpredictable animal on the grounds! He could have killed you!" He gave the horse a look of dire warning.

Alex's smile faded. "You're so dramatic…" She caught the look he shot the horse. "Don't make Tempus feel bad. He'll sense it. It wasn't his fault, it was mine. I was distracted."

"By what?"

"By you."

Dimitri shook his head at her recklessness. 'I should never have suggested she break that horse…if anything happens to her, I'll never forgive myself.'

Breaking him had taken Alex surprisingly little time. In fact, Jozsef had told Dimitri he was impressed with her methods. "Your wife could easily help us train the horses."

Dimitri hadn't appreciated the suggestion. "My wife is a neurologist, not a horse trainer."

Jozsef had smiled. "Count Szechenyi said it himself, that there were three things we could learn from the English; the constitution, machine industry and horses."

Count Istvan Szechenyi, who was distantly related to the house of Andrassy, single-handedly pioneered thoroughbred horse racing in Hungary when he returned from a trip to England, in the early 1800's with twenty-one pedigree horses in tow. He then bred champions which would one day make the Guinness Book of Records for their astounding number of consecutive wins. His was the legacy Dimitri wanted to carry on.

Dimitri had raised his eyebrows. "My wife is an excellent rider, I know that." He eyed Jozsef as he said it, "Don't tell her I said that." It was a constant, half-hearted competition between them. The question of who was the better rider. One that Dimitri wasn't willing to concede to Alex. Not anytime soon.

"She knows what she's doing, that's all."

Whenever business didn't take him away from Vadsel, Dimitri had observed Alex as she broke the yearling, watching her from afar with a reluctant pride. He'd watched her gently groom the horse and slowly exercise him in the pound pen, using a lead rope to guide him into following simple commands.

Knowing the horse was likely to buck, Dimitri couldn't bear to watch her day she first saddled and bridled him. Instead, he'd instructed Jozsef to stay close by. His trainer, as usual, managed to calm his nerves.

"Dr. Marick is clever. She's going by the book with Tempus. One step at a time. She saddled him with ease, in the stall, just as I suggested. The horse is starting to feel comfortable with her and he's showing a surprising respect for the boundaries she's imposed on him."

"That's a shock. My wife going by the book."

Slowly and with a patience he'd rarely seen her exhibit before, Dimitri watched as Alex took the wild, temperamental animal and taught it to lunge and drive as though it were the most natural thing in the world. She also managed to mount the horse with less difficulty than he thought she would. Surprisingly, the thing that presented her with the greatest challenge was riding him.

More than anything, Tempus Fugit was fast. Incredibly and unbelievably fast. The horse possessed a gift of speed that was so powerful it seemed to overwhelm even the young animal.

Dimitri knew the horse was bonding with his trainer and because of it; it did its earnest best to protect her when they rode but Dimitri also knew that that wasn't enough. He knew that Alex wasn't finely attuned enough to the horse's every nuance yet to stop herself from making the tiniest of mistakes. Mistakes that wouldn't have thrown her on a slower, less powerful horse.

But Tempus wasn't that kind of horse.

"I want to run him next to Aladdin," Alex had told him a couple of days ago. Aladdin was Dimitri's pride and joy. His fastest horse. He was a champion two-year old who had won five consecutive starting races in Hungary and Austria last year.

"Tempus isn't ready to run against Aladdin," Dimitri had told her. In spite of the animal's obvious potential, there was _something_, a gut instinct of sorts, which made Dimitri balk at the idea of racing him. No matter how good a rider she was, Alex wasn't a professional trainer and she had probably already instilled a whole host of bad habits in the horse. At this point he simply wanted to keep the horse on the grounds for their riding pleasure. A gift for Alex.

Of course she didn't see it that way.

"Are you crazy? I thought we were in the business of horse racing! I've never seen a faster horse than Tempus."

"I thought you wanted him to have the freedom to roam the grounds. He'll lose that if we start racing him."

"Why?"

Dimitri had raised his eyebrows, "Once we race him, we'll have to end his interaction with the other animals. Keep him in a solitary pen to prevent injuries. You know that as well as I do." Racehorses were finely tuned athletes that required more care, money and attention than most of their human counterparts.

"We'd have to make an exception with him. This freedom he has now, it's the source of his speed."

Dimitri had laughed. "Now look who's crazy."

And now, when he saw Alex lying on the ground, he wondered if maybe racing him wasn't such a bad idea. 'At least then he'd get a professional jockey to ride him.'

Dimitri stretched out his arm, helping her get up.

Once on her feet she held on to him for balance, groaning as she took her first step.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I think I might have sprained my ankle…I'm not sure."

The horse trotted behind them, hanging its head and Dimitri turned around to give it another admonishing glare.

Alex cringed. "Don't make the poor thing feel guiltier than he already is."

Dimitri moved his arm around her waist, "Can you walk?"

Alex nodded and slowly they started making their way back to the stables.

"I spoke to Laszlo and he's set up an appointment at an orphanage near Bucharest next week for us," he told her. Laszlo was a distant cousin. A lawyer by profession.

"Really? That's great news."

Now that the winter months were approaching they'd spend less time travelling to various racetracks throughout Europe and Dimitri had gone ahead full speed to look into adopting a child. "He says our chances of getting a Romanian baby are great. You're a physician and I'm Eastern European, two big pluses."

Alex's eyes lit up at the prospect. "That's fabulous." She smiled, " Of course the fact that you're heir to a small fortune can't possibly hurt our prospects either."

Dimitri knew she yearned for the chance to raise a child. His gaze rested on her, "To think we could go there and find a child… _our_ child. As soon as next week."

Alex grasped his arm, taking a deep breath. "It would be… _amazing_."

Dimitri felt her pull on him, trying to shift her weight onto his. "Mind you, if you walk in there with crutches, that might not be ideal." He saw her grimace as she tripped over something. He scooped her up into his arms before she could protest.

"Hey, I said I could walk!"

Her body felt warm and light in his arms. She had the prefect frame for a rider. He smiled, unable to stop thinking about the child they might soon adopt. "I know...that's what you _said_."

"It's true."

He ignored the fact that she rolled her eyes. The grin was stuck on his face.

"Tomorrow," he told her. "Tomorrow, let's look into getting Tempus ready to race. And then, let's head to Bucharest…"

_50 miles south of Kisangani, Democratic Republic of Congo_

Roger Saunders sat in the airless room, listening to the loud whir of the fan above him, whipping the thick, humid air into a frenzy. The room was empty save for his presence.

He picked up the South African passport that the WSB had issued him. If all went well tonight, they would head across the border into Uganda tomorrow to drop off the diamonds for analysis in Kampala and meet up with a group of joint WSB operatives there.

He opened the passport and saw his photo.

_Roger Robert Saunders_.

Even now, more than a decade later, he still couldn't get used to the sound of his new name. In his mind he was still Robert Scorpio and he knew that if someone somehow managed to dig up the name, he'd answer to it.

'Robert Scorpio,' he mouthed aloud, to remind him it still existed. 'How much is left of that man?' he wondered. He ran a weary hand through his messy, week old stubble.

'Not much,' he concluded.

Sandrine Mutanga was briefing the men who would help them with the raid tonight. Ten in total. She wouldn't be back for at least another hour.

With that knowledge, he pulled an envelope out of his pocket. He'd kept it there since it arrived last night. Robert smiled when he saw the red-wax seal on the back. "God, when is the Bureau ever going to leap into the 21st century?"

Still, he was glad they respected his wishes for paper rather than electronic correspondence. E-mail could never be completely erased. With the right efforts, just about anything was retrievable from cyberspace. Besides, going online in the jungles of equatorial Africa wasn't always an option anyway.

Robert took out his lighter, knowing he'd burn the paper as soon as he read it.

It was redundant information, because his own informant had already given him the news he wanted. But the WSB didn't know that and they never would.

Regardless, he felt the same sense of anticipation opening the envelope now as he did each month.

There were only two sparse lines:

_Subject 1 alive and well in Paris. No attempts to reach subject have been made._

_Subject 2 alive and well in Paris. No attempts to reach subject have been made._

It was almost identical to what the last notice said, with the exception of Subject 1 being in Pine Valley rather than Paris.

_Anna's with Robin in Paris._ Robert wondered what that meant, hoping that everything was all right with his daughter.

He pushed the thought aside as soon as it entered his mind. He didn't want to know how they were. All he needed to know was that Faison had kept his part of the deal. That he was staying out of their lives.

It was the only thing that kept Robert away from them.

He pulled the first of two pictures from the envelope.

It was Robin sitting on a park bench, an ice cream cone in her hand, her gaze focused on an open textbook that rested on her lap.

Robert smiled. Robin had grown into a beautiful young woman. He resisted the urge to take a closer look, at the textbook she was reading to see if it held a clue to what she was studying.

He didn't want to know. The more he knew the harder it would be to stay away.

Then he pulled out the second picture. It was black and white like the first. A photo of Anna leaving Robin's apartment in Paris. She looked directly at the long-distance zoom camera, as though she knew it was there.

'Of course she doesn't,' Robert told himself. 'She couldn't possibly.' He lingered on the photo, staring at it longer than usual. There was something in her expression. A weariness that he hadn't seen since the photos of her from Canada.

'Please God, make everything be alright with Robin,' he mouthed a silent prayer, closing his eyes in the oppressive heat of the room.

Then he pulled out a lighter and burned both photos.

First the one of Anna, then the one of Robin. Images and memories dissolved into ash in seconds.

_If only I could erase my memories as easily._

Instead of erasing them, his mind kept them alive, against his will, taking him back in time. _Again and again_.

-

_Caracas, Venezuela,_

_Ten years earlier_

_-_

He remembered boarding the empty, decrepit oil tanker. A coat of rust draped its hull and Robert was sure the ship was no longer seaworthy. It was anchored in the harbour, awaiting its final voyage to the graveyard.

Steel creaked beneath his feet as he walked across the deck.

He had one goal. To free the woman he loved from the man who wanted to destroy them both.

The WSB no longer trusted Anna. They believed she sold them out to Cesar Faison by divulging top-secret information in an act of treason. In turn, they issued a Black Box order; a directive aimed at protecting the Bureau, _by means of killing her_.

Were it not for the Black Box order Robert would have boarded the tanker with a team of agents ready to back him up. Instead, he was here alone.

It didn't matter. He would get her out and prove them all wrong. Anna wasn't a saint and never would be. In fact, she _had_ betrayed him once before. But the woman he loved today would die rather than betray him again. He would stake his life on it.

There was an eerie silence aboard the dying ship now. The only sounds he heard were seagulls cackling, perched precariously atop rusting steel beams.

It was then that he saw both of them. Anna and Faison. They were walking across the far end of the deck and Robert saw Faison's hand grabbing her arm. '_Get if off_,' was his first thought. He quickly ducked behind a storage vat, to avoid being spotted.

It wasn't quick enough. He caught Anna's head turning in his direction, her eyes widening as she recognized his face. At first, they widened in surprise, then in terror.

She shook her head violently, her arm loosening itself from Faison's grasp in the process.

"_No!"_

She was trying to tell him something.

_Warning_ him. To get away. To s_tay away_.

_'From what_?' he asked himself.

Faison had spotted him too now, and he tried in vain to reclaim his grasp on Anna.

Robert bolted towards them, his hand on his service revolver.

Anna's face was a mask of distress.

Robert came closer. Running.

"_No! Robert, no!"_

They were the last words he heard, and Anna's distressed face was the last thing he saw, before a wall of heat and fire rose up to engulf them all. It followed an explosive noise that nearly shattered his eardrums. Beneath his feet, Robert felt the already rusting steel give in under the force of the explosion, shaking the entire ship.

The sudden explosion was breaking the tanker into pieces.

Another blast of burning heat propelled Robert to the edge of the deck and he did the only thing that made sense.

He jumped into the water below.

It was the last thing he remembered. Jumping from the burning inferno into the cool, calm ocean beneath. Anna's desperation was the last thing he pictured before the water covered him.

He couldn't remember how he went from the ocean to the hospital bed from which he later awoke or how much time elapsed between the two memories. Hours. Days. Perhaps even weeks.

"He's coming out of it," were the first words he heard. They came from a voice he didn't recognize.

Slowly he opened his eyes and saw the face that came with the voice. A dark-skinned man wearing a white coat, with a stethoscope hanging from his neck. A doctor.

The man waved a hand over Robert's face, as though testing his vision.

"Welcome back, Robert," the man told him, a smile on his lips. "What took you so long?"

Robert took in his surroundings, forcing his clouded mind to think. There were a half dozen machines next to his bed. He had to be in a clinic or a hospital.

"I…where am…?" he muttered, testing his voice, finding it hoarse and awkward sounding.

"You're safe," the doctor reassured him. "You were aboard a tanker that exploded. You suffered minor burns from the fire and fractures from your fall…"

The tanker. The explosion.

It slowly came back to him.

"You almost drowned and because you were in a coma for several days afterwards, we feared there may have been residual brain damage due to the lack of oxygen…"

_Anna_. She was on the tanker with him and Faison. The realization suddenly gripped him with panic.

"Anna…" he croaked. "Where's Anna?"

The doctor looked puzzled. "Who is Anna?"

"My…my wife. She…" Saying the words required more effort than Robert would have thought possible. "She… was on the tanker too. I need to know if…if she's okay."

The doctor's face was unreadable. "You must stay calm. Your condition…"

_Stay calm?_

Robert didn't hear the rest of the doctor's words. His panic deepened, choking him, cutting off his breath. "I need…" He couldn't find the strength to say the words. "I _need_ to know if she's all right!" Robert was certain he was shouting, but judging from the doctor's casual reaction, he might have been wrong.

The man bent down towards him. "I can't help you where this woman is concerned. But there is someone who can."

Robert's pupils widened. "Who?" he demanded, coughing with the effort.

The doctor frowned. "Please…don't agitate yourself like this. You've just woken from a coma. Your body isn't ready for this kind of stress."

Robert tried to push himself of the bed. A futile gesture, in spite of his Herculean efforts. "I _need_ to know, damn it!"

The doctor already held a syringe in his hand and moved its tip towards Robert's arm.

"No…please, don't. Just tell me…" he protested.

Another exercise in futility. He felt the needle enter his arm, and in what was surely a matter of seconds, his body went limp. Darkness draped over him. Again.

The doctor shook his head. Annoyed. "You _will_ find out," he whispered to him. "But not yet. Later."

_Later_

The second time Robert woke up there was another face in his line of vision. Only this time it wasn't a stranger.

It was a face he knew. A face he loathed.

Cesar Faison.

Faison glared at him. His shoulder-length hair was tied back hastily and his left arm was in a sling, covered in a thick, swathing bandage that extended from his shoulder to his wrist. The left side of his face was red, swollen and partially bandaged.

'Burns,' Robert decided. The explosion had burned most of Faison's left side. Some of the resulting scars would probably be permanent. He had to be in considerable pain.

_Anna._

Seeing Faison's injuries made him fear for Anna.

_Please God, let her be alright_.

It also made him realize for the first time that he could have suffered a similar fate. Robert couldn't remember what he saw the first time he woke up, but now he checked his body, to see if he too was covered in bandages.

He wasn't.

His hands and arms were free of anything but minor scratches. They were smooth, tanned and unscarred. But he saw something else that did shock him: his wrists were tied to the bed.

Robert tugged at the restraints, glaring at Faison. "Where is she?" he demanded.

Faison drew a deep breath, weighing his words. "Anna is... fine." He paused. "Perhaps _fine_ is an exaggeration. However, I can assure you she did survive the explosion."

"Let me see her," Robert demanded, clenching his fist.

Faison's lips twisted into a painful smile. "You're in no position to make demands."

"If you don't tell me where she is…I'm…I'm going to kill you, you son of a..."

Faison shook his head in disdain and he sat down next to Robert. The movement made him wince. "Stop making empty threats. You must know that I despise you as much as I've ever despised anyone and right now I hold your life in my hands." He pointed to the intravenous tube that ran into Robert's arm. "You see that bag of medication there?" He carefully pulled out a needle from his pocket, using his uninjured arm, "All I have to do is inject the contents of this syringe into that tube and your heart will stop beating in minutes."

Robert's eyes widened. He kept tugging at the restraints on his wrists, feeling his body rebel at the effort. "Why are you here? And what do you want?" He forced his mind to focus, to calm himself. If he had to play Faison's games to find out about Anna, so be it.

"I'm here to make a deal with you."

Robert's heart beat wildly, pounding in his chest. Staying calm was taking more willpower than he possessed. "A deal?"

"Yes. A deal."

Robert clenched his lips, hating his helplessness. He tried to twist his legs, noticing only now that his ankles too, were fastened to the bed with plastic, cloth-covered restraints. He was completely powerless. "From where I stand you're holding all the cards right now…so why don't you just kill me and be done with it," he spat.

"Killing someone who is as utterly helpless as you are right now, offers me no great reward. Much as the thought of your death does tempt me." He sighed heavily. "No, I've come here to give you a choice. A choice of life or death."

Robert frowned. He hated this man, hated his speech, his accent, his demeanour and his veiled attempt at civility. "So I choose life…now tell me where she is."

Faison ignored Robert's demand. Disdain was written all over his face.

"Anna was hit by a piece of debris during the explosion. It rendered her unconscious before I grabbed her and jumped into the water with her," he explained, taking obvious pleasure in the fact that Robert was hanging on to every word. "We were further inside the ship than you were, so it took us longer to get to the edge and jump, hence the reason for the burns on my body."

"I don't care about you. Tell me about Anna."

Faison's glared seethed at Robert. "You are aware that I'm _choosing_ to tell you what happened to her, aren't you? I could stop right now, and you'll die before you ever find out."

Robert forced himself to bite his tongue.

Faison's glare softened. "Good. I'm glad we straightened that out. Anyhow...like yourself, Anna was unconscious for an extended period of time. Because I draped myself around her, she suffered only minimal burns. Her inital head injury however was severe enough to make her attending physician fear that she might have permanent brain damage." Faison purposely paused long enough to let the words sink in; enjoying the effect they had on Robert.

"Luckily she woke up and proved them wrong. Much to their surprise, she was coherent. Alert and capable of speech. They believe the scarring on the brain may not result in permanent brain damage, although it's too early to tell. She could recover completely but it's also possible she may suffer lasting consequences...seizures, headaches, vision problems..."

Robert felt his heart tear at the words coming from Faison. 'God, we had everything, luv. And it was so good, so damn good…how could it have turned out like this?' Anna needed him...she needed him so desperately and here he was, with restraints that tied him down like an invalid, forced to listen to the rantings of a madman.

"Oh and there's one other thing…" Faison added, almost casually.

"What?" Robert hissed. 'This is _your_ fault, Faison, this is all your fault,' was the only thought that ran through his mind.

"She doesn't remember anything."

"About the explosion?"

"No. A_nything_."

"I don't understand…"

"She couldn't remember her name, her age, her occupation…nothing."

Robert's eyes widened again. "You're saying she has amnesia?"

Faison nodded. "Yes."

Robert tore at his restraints. "Let me see her…please! If she sees me then maybe…"

Faison laughed. "Then what? She'll remember? Your arrogance never fails to astonish me, Scorpio. She has a head injury, not a hang over. The doctors are saying she might never remember _anything_ about her past. Can you grasp that?"

Robert seethed. "How perfect for you! You can feed her a whole new batch of lies! Damn you, this is all your fault!" His heart raced and a wave of dizziness suddenly overcame him. 'Anna must be terrified,' he thought, closing his eyes. 'Afraid, confused, and in pain and you won't let me near her. I'm going to kill you for this, Cesar Faison.'

"It's been three days since she regained consciousness and she still remembers absolutely nothing," Faison told him. "But enough about Anna. I want to discuss the reason why I'm here."

"The deal…" Robert's mind was spinning, trying hard to imagine what this injured, deluded man could possibly have concocted.

"I have no interest in helping Anna regain her memory. She's dead to me."

This time Robert's pupils narrowed. He was lying. He had to be. Faison had been obsessed with Anna for as long as he could remember. A case of amnesia surely wasn't enough to make him let go of his relentless pursuit.

"You think this is a ploy?" Faison asked, reading his mind. "I can assure you it's not. Anna is responsible for the pain I'm in, for these scars that will last me a lifetime…needless to say I'm more than a little upset with her at the moment."

"What are you talking about?" Robert asked him, uncomprehending.

"You don't know, do you?" He managed a smile. "The explosion on the tanker. Anna was the one who rigged the explosives. I'm absolutely certain of it. My men examined some of the debris that was carried to the shore. Her signature is all over it."

Robert shook his head. "Anna wouldn't…"

"Of course, she would," Faison cut him off. "Explosives, bombs, incendiary devices of all sorts…that's her specialty. It's why the WSB took her back after she betrayed them. Because she's so very good at what she does. However, your problem, Robert, is that you never truly understood exactly _what_ she's capable of doing. You never understood that other side of her. The side of her that fenced stolen objets d'art not to survive but for the thrill of it."

'What could you have done to her that would make her believe that was the only way out?' Robert asked himself, suddenly afraid. His already throbbing headache intensified with every one of Faison's revelations. His mind drifted back to the tanker, to that hot and dreadful afternoon. To the fear in Anna's eyes.

"_No! Robert, no!" _

She _knew_. It suddenly made sense.

'Anna knew what was going to happen, but she had no idea that I would be on the ship when it did...'

"I see you don't doubt what I'm telling you." Faison massaged his bandaged wrist. "She tried to kill me. She tricked me into believing that she was willing to be with me and then she tried to kill me."

'Good,' Robert thought, swallowing hard to keep both his racing heart and his pounding head under control. 'Except you could have died along with him, luv.' Anna would never willingly leave him or Robin. _What in the world did you do to her?_ "What do you want? What's this deal you keep talking about?"

"The deal is simple, you have a choice: live or die." As if to clarify his stance, Robert watched Faison's hand tighten on the syringe he'd drawn only minutes ago.

"That's it? In that case I choose life."

"It isn't quite _that_ simple. If you choose life, there's one condition. It's a life without Anna or Robin."

Robert looked at him incredulously. "How on Earth do you think you'll keep me away from them?"

"If you go near them again I'll kill them. Both."

Robert felt the blood drain from his face. "You're bluffing…"

Faison smiled, his lips thin and hard. "You think? Try me. You stay away from them and so will I. _That's_ the deal. I don't want Anna anymore, but I certainly don't want you to have her. "

Robert's head sank back on his pillow, his injured muscles no longer allowing him to keep it up. "You're making no sense..." he managed to point out. "How will I know that you're keeping your part if I can't get anywhere near them? What will stop me from killing _you _the moment I get a chance?"

Faison smiled again, "Ah…but you're wrong. It all makes _perfect_ sense. You could easily enlist the WSB to monitor Anna and your daughter."

"The WSB wants her dead!"

"They won't after you tell them she tried to kill me. They'll believe their golden boy, especially since it's the truth. And of course you wouldn't think to harm me, because if anything happens to me, Anna and Robin will die." He sighed, "After the explosion, I realized that Anna hates me enough to risk losing her own life in order to end mine. Such hatred, Robert, it's unfathomable. I really was wrong to think that she could fall in love with me again. The only thing I have left now is the satisfaction of knowing that _you_ can't have her either. Neither Anna nor your beautiful daughter."

The thought of what he was suggesting was unthinkable. It was a malicious case of blackmail, nothing more.

Speaking was becoming more difficult, "If…if _you_ stay away from them…how will you know I've kept my part of the bargain?"

"Just as the WSB will keep tabs on Robin and Anna, my men will keep tabs on you. It's simple. That, and I don't believe you'd risk their lives. You love them too much for that."

Robert shook his head. "This is crazy…I would never go along with this…I won't play this game." Life wouldn't be worth living if he couldn't be near the two people he loved most. He would have lost everything. Everything that meant anything.

Faison shrugged his shoulders. "I guess you've made your choice then…either way you lose them. Either way _I win_." He drew back his syringe and moved towards Robert, bending down to inject it into the intravenous tube.

Robert clenched his fists, gasping for air to keep up with the demands of his pounding heart. He wasn't ready to die. He wasn't ready to stop fighting. There had to be another way. _Had_ to be.

"Wait…"

-

- excerpt at beginning of chapter taken from 'Phantom' by Susan Kay


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_Paris, France_

Cesar Faison watched her from inside the parked car and frowned.

"I'm disappointed," he told Jan who sat next to him, in the passenger's seat. "She's only been at her job for a week and already she uses the same way to walk to the Metro every day."

"I don't understand…"

"Anna's a spy," Faison pointed out. "She should know better than to keep such an easily traceable routine."

"_Ex_-spy," Jan reminded him. "I suppose she thinks she has no reason to watch her back." He didn't want to go so far as to suggest that were it not for her _easily_ _traceable routine_ they wouldn't be sitting in their rented Peugeot right now, observing her.

Faison watched as she stopped at a local fruit stand. It was the same thing she did two days ago. "Humans really are creatures of habit," he mumbled. He observed something else as she bent over to examine the cantaloupes, grasping them with her fingers. 'She's gained weight,' he thought, with a smile on his face. 'It appears that even you're not immune to the culinary delights of Paris, Anna.'

She wore an elegant suit that was just stylish enough to fit in with the trendy pedestrians that surrounded her. And as he watched her walk to the cashier located outside, he noticed that, even in heels that were higher than most others in view, she still carried herself with the same ease that she did ten years ago.

Her hair fell over her shoulders as she pulled out a twenty Euro note and handed it to the cashier with a smile. He _loved_ her smile. Faison felt his own lips rise in response to it.

Because he was lost in the image, he didn't hear Jan's voice in the car, saying something to him.

"What?" he asked.

"We should go now," Jan told him uncomfortably. "She's going to head down to Saint Ambroise station in a few minutes anyway."

Faison raised his hand, annoyed. "Wait. Not yet."

"We shouldn't even be this close," Jan reminded him. "The WSB could see us."

"The WSB is hopelessly inept. They couldn't spot us if they tried."

"It's an unnecessary risk."

Faison observed her take the paper bag in her hands as she walked away from the store. An old lady with a poodle blocked her path on the sidewalk and Anna slowed down her pace to avoid bumping into her.

The old lady entered the next building, a postal office with giant ionic columns marking its entrance. Faison fully expected Anna to pick up her pace again and take the stairs down into the Metro stop directly ahead of her. Yet she did neither. He saw her walk past the subway entrance, a hand on her stomach as she headed towards a nearby parkette.

Jan started the car.

"Wait," Faison told him.

Jan looked at him, puzzled. "Why? We can hardly see her now…there's no point."

"There's something wrong. She's not well."

"What? Why would you say that?"

"The way she's walking… the fact that she's not taking the Metro." In the distance, he saw her sitting down on a park bench. "Go…follow her."

"What?" Jan's puzzlement changed into incredulity. "You know I can't do that. We shouldn't even be this close to her!"

"I said '_go after her'_!" It was only when it came to Anna Devane that Jan Hallstrom seemed to require a constant reminder of who was the boss.

The Swede undid his seatbelt, half leaping, half stumbling out of their parked vehicle. His glasses hung crookedly from his face and he nervously made an effort to straighten them as he walked away from the car.

He took a deep breath, walking down the crowded sidewalk towards the park, steeling himself for the encounter with Anna Devane. 'What in god's name am I going to say to her?' he asked himself, under his breath.

He noticed she set down the paper bag down on the bench next to her, and lowered her head towards her knees. She looked pale. Maybe Faison was right, maybe there _was_ something with her. How in the world his boss had sensed that merely from looking at her from afar was beyond Jan's comprehension.

"_Madame, puis-je vous aider? Est-ce que vous vous sentez mal?" _

Anna raised her head to look at him with cautious eyes, _"Non…je_ _suis pas malade…je suis…"_

He watched her fish for the word.

"_Enceinte. Je suis enceinte." _

Jan eyes opened wide at the revelation. _I'm not ill, I'm pregnant._

"_Vous parlez anglais?"_ he asked her, deciding he was too agitated to endure her haphazard attempts at French.

"Yes," she gave him a relieved smile. "I do speak English…unlike my French, it's pretty comprehensible."

Jan observed her unabashedly. She did have a lovely smile.

Jan enjoyed looking at an attractive woman as much as he relished the sight of any object of beauty. Whether it was the exquisitely carved marble of Michelangelo's _Pieta_, the unforgettable colours of Monet's _Jardins de Giverny_, or the impossible perfection of a precision cut 1.5-carat diamond; Jan was an admirer of all things aesthetically pleasing. He knew first hand that the world was full of things that were vile and ugly. It only made him appreciate beautiful objects that much more.

Anna Devane didn't come close to embodying his ideal of the feminine form, yet he could understand his boss's captivation with her. Seeing her up close finally made him understand this endless fascination with a creature that had such obvious spirit beneath her deceptive veil of fragility

'It's an irresistible combination, that of vulnerability and strength…' he realized.

Jan had to force himself to stop staring when he noticed her clever eyes trying to figure him out.

"I saw you walking towards the park…you didn't look well."

Anna clenched her lips. "Morning sickness. Or in my case, morning, afternoon and evening sickness."

"I see," Jan replied. He was anxious to get away from her, away from what his closeness to her could imply. "Is there anything I can do for you? Would you like me to get you some water? Is there someone I can call?"

He knew she would turn down his offers.

Anna shook her head. "No...no, I'm fine. Thank you for your concern, but I'm fine."

Jan offered her a curt smile. "If you're sure." He turned and started to walk away from her, knowing her eyes were still on him. It had been an odd encounter and Jan knew it would puzzle her instinctively curious nature. Parisians weren't known for their friendliness or their empathy, and his overt concern for a stranger must have seemed out of place.

'It doesn't matter,' he thought. 'She's not going to see me again.'

His nervousness dissipated as he made his way back to the Peugeot where Faison was waiting.

_She's pregnant._

He was certain this latest news would make her infinitely less appealing to his boss. Perhaps Faison would abandon his renewed interest in her altogether.

The thought cheered Jan up considerably as he sat back doin the passenger's seat.

"Well?" Faison demanded.

Jan couldn't hide his sudden good mood.

"I have some very interesting news."

_Near Bucharest, Romania _

"This is it," the bearded driver told them. "Orphanage number seventeen."

Dimitri reached over and gave him a small handful of bills. "Thank you. I'll call for you when we're done."

Alex glanced outside the window of the dust-covered yellow Lada and saw a depressing building that resembled a prison rather than a home for children.

It was draped in peeling, grey paint and several of its windows were broken. Not that it mattered. All windows were covered with thick, rusting, iron bars.

Alex scanned the grounds, looking in vain for a playground or some sort of recreational area to suggest that the building indeed housed children.

She swallowed hard as Dimitri opened the door for her.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yeah…" She took his hand as an uneasy feeling came over her. What could a place that looked as uninviting from the outside possibly hold _inside_?

"Hopefully they'll still see us tonight," Dimitri mumbled as they made their made to the entrance. They were held up at airport customs and had a longer than expected drive from Bucharest, thanks to both of which they were now several hours late for the appointment his cousin had set up.

Alex straightened her hair windswept hair nervously. "Do you think we look alright?"

Dimitri squeezed her hand. "Can't speak for myself, but you look very alright from where I'm standing." Alex was wearing a brown, two-piece suit over a turquoise silk blouse. No jewelry except for her wedding ring. Even so, her attire felt extravagantly out of place in their surroundings.

Dimitri pushed a button on the intercom and a heavy-set grey haired lady came to open the door. She offered him a wide, fake smile. "Good evening." She held out her hand to Dimitri. "You must be Doctor Marick. It is a pleasure to have you come and see us." Her English was heavily accented.

Dimitri extended his hand in response and offered her a smile as well. "No, the pleasure is all ours." He gestured to Alex, "This is my wife Alexandra. She's the doctor. Not me."

"Oh…" The woman gave Alex a curt nod and made no motion to shake her hand. She quickly turned her attention back to Dimitri. "Your lawyer said you were looking for a young child. How young exactly?"

The question took both of them by surprise and Dimitri glanced at Alex. "It…it doesn't matter really. Two months or two years…we were hoping to raise the child, that's all."

"Boy or girl?"

Neither Dimitri nor Alex had a chance to tell her it didn't matter. Half a dozen children running down the hallway cut off their answer.

A boy rammed into Alex, throwing her off balance and full force into the tiled wall behind her.

He was short and wiry and his stature was that of a nine or ten year old, but when Alex saw his face she decided he had to be considerably older.

"Stupid lady!" he announced angrily, giving Alex a livid look because she'd gotten in the way of the others he was pursuing.

"Watch it, kid," Dimitri glared at him.

The boy stuck out his tongue at him and ran off as the grey haired lady shouted after him in Romanian.

"I'm sorry," she apologized to Dimitri.

"What do you know…they speak English," Alex mumbled, offering Dimitri a lopsided smirk. "Great."

"I will take you to the infants ward," the lady said. She had a hard time mustering another forced smile. "My name is Alma. I am the Director of the Orphanage. All adoptions are finalised by me personally and I make sure all the children are put in only the very best homes."

Alex's eyes widened as they entered the infants' room. It was a large room, as large as the dining hall at Vadsel, which could easily accommodate a hundred diners. Only here, instead of antique chairs, silver and fine china, there were dozens and dozens of cribs, pressed next to one another, some holding as many as three infants. The smell of urine and unchanged diapers hung heavily in the stale air.

The cribs were old and bare and there were no toys in any of them, and blankets only in some.

Alex gasped when she saw a young girl, or was it a boy, she wasn't entirely sure, sit up and bang its head into the iron bars of the crib. She was about to reach over and stop the child from doing it again, but the lady, Alma, beat her to it, pushing the toddler back down on to the thin mattress. She said something to her in Romanian and then turned back to Alex, smiling. "She does that. It's her way of getting attention."

Alex stared at the girl noticing only now that she was cross-eyed and that one of her legs was bandaged. "What's wrong with…?" she started to ask, but the lady had already moved down the aisle of cribs, motioning for them to follow.

"There is a boy here that you might like," she pointed to a blonde, blue eyed infant sleeping contentedly amidst the cacophony of crying babies.

Alex looked at Dimitri, bewildered at the countless children that surrounded them. She wanted to take them _all. _Each and every one of them, out of this room and into someplace warm and bright. Someplace where they'd be loved, not just kept alive.

The lady picked up the sleeping boy and showed him to Dimitri, holding him as though he were the prize catch in a room full of castaways.

"Doesn't he have lovely eyes?" she remarked. "His name is Dorinel and he has a clean bill of health. He has had all his inoculations. He has no genetically inherited conditions."

"He's beautiful, " Dimitri agreed.

The child _was_ beautiful, Alex thought. But so were a dozen others._ How could they possibly choose?_

Alex turned to the boy in the crib next to the one Alma had hoisted the baby from. He looked as though he'd been crying a long time. There were well-marked tear streaks running down his cheeks. Alex reached over to touch his face and wipe them away.

Alma frowned at the gesture. "You shouldn't touch him, Mrs. Marick."

Alex looked at the woman puzzled. "Why?"

"He has AIDS."

Alex lowered her eyes and looked into the crib of the tiny boy. She knew that AIDS was epidemic in the dirt poor orphanages of Romania, where the virus had spread at malevolent rates because of unscreened blood transfusions and the use and re-use of unsterilized equipment, including syringes. Thousands of children were infected and seeing the inadequate care they offered their healthy children, Alex shuddered at the thought of how they possibly tended to those infected with the AIDS virus. Like this boy in front of her.

It probably explained why he had a crib to himself. Why he'd been crying without anyone making the slightest effort to soothe him.

Alex picked him up and cradled him in her arms.

"Don't do that, Mrs. Marick!"

Alex ignored her, surprised to see that the baby responded to her. He stopped crying almost immediately.

"Put him down," the woman repeated.

"Why?" Alex asked her. "And why isn't anyone in here, tending to these children?"

"The nurses have gone home for the day. They're the only ones who care for these children. Please, put Andrei down."

Andrei. He had a name.

Alex smiled at him and to her surprise he grasped her index finger and wrapped his tiny hand around it.

"I said he has AIDS!" the woman repeated, frazzled now by Alex's actions.

"I don't understand," Dimitri cut in. "What does that matter? You can't contract the virus by holding him."

"He has sores on his body…and if your wife has any cuts, infections anything…I won't allow you to take that risk!"

Alex wondered whose safety it was that she was really concerned about. "Is he on any medications? Are his t-cell counts being monitored?" was what she asked instead.

The woman took the boy from her arms and he promptly started wailing again.

"Surely you want to adopt a healthy child?" She didn't give Alex a chance to answer the question. "If you don't like Dorinel there are other children I can show you. Maybe you would like a darker child, one with hair and eyes closer to your own? One that looks more like he could be your son?"

Alex turned to Dimitri and raised her brows. He shook his head and silently cautioned her against it when he saw that Alex was about to tell the woman _exactly_ what she thought. Alex bit her tongue and they spent the next three hours going through the room filled with endless children, from newborns to toddlers. All of them waiting for a chance to be taken away from here.

It was impssible to make a choice.

"It doesn't matter," Alma told them afterwards. "We will finish the paperwork first, you can make a firm decision after."

They spent another hour in her office, filling out countless forms and making the necessary 'donations' to facilitate their progress. Finally Alma got up to shake Dimitri's hand. "I will process these at the earliest possible time this week. Once the Bureau of Child Welfare has reviewed them and confirmed you are suitable candidates, you can decide on the child. After that it shouldn't take more than a month before the adoption is finalised." She left them with one last, forced smile. "Don't worry, Mr. Marick, you and your wife _will _be suitable candidates."

When Alex and Dimitri left the building it was dark and deserted in the streets outside.

There were utility poles that spanned the unpaved rod, yet no streetlights. A warm fall wind blew through the air and Alex sat down on the cracked, stone steps of the building while Dimitri used his cell phone to call back the driver who'd brought them here.

Sitting down reminded her that she was exhausted. Her ankle was still sore after her fall off Tempus last week. It didn't help that she'd worn heels instead of flats when really she should have known better. She massaged it, wishing she'd brought along another pair of shoes.

Dimitri sat down next to her as soon as he got off the phone.

"He said he'll be here in about fifteen minutes."

"There were some many children in there_. So_ many." The thought of them spending the night in that unbearable, filthy room made her shiver.

In the darkness, Dimitri checked the time on his Longines watch. "God, it's late. We should get some food."

They already missed their return flight to Budapest and Alex figured they'd have to spend the night in Bucharest.

"I am starving," she agreed.

She felt him massage her shoulders, easing the tension in them. "You're thinking about him, aren't you?" he asked.

"Who?"

"The little boy with AIDS."

"Andrei."

He knew her so well.

Alex watched him take out a cigar and light it with a match, his dark eyes staring into warm, night sky.

"He's small for his age."

Alex nodded in agreement. "He is."

They hadn't discussed the possibility of adopting anything but a healthy child.

"Nobody's going to adopt him," Dimitri pointed out, exhaling the pungent smoke.

Alex nodded again, leaning against him. She knew exactly what he was thinking.

"Did you notice how he stopped crying when you held him?" he asked her. "We could give him the medical attention he deserves."

"We could."

"But not being able to heal him is going to break your heart."

He knew her _too _well.

He put an arm around her. "And that would break my heart."

"Do you really think everything happens for a reason?" she asked him softly.

"I think..." He was still staring into the night sky. "I think you saved my life for a reason. I wasn't meant to die then. I was meant to be here, with you, tonight..." He turned to her now, a smile on his face. "Sitting on these very steps, outside this godforsaken building in the middle of nowhere."

Alex's eyes were moist now. He was right. If there was anything she was destined to do in her life, it was to save Dimitri's life. Because she couldn't imagine her life without him in it anymore.

He put out the cigar and kissed her forehead. "If we go ahead with this, there's no turning back. It'll be a difficult journey. But at the same time, we have so much. Maybe it's time we gave something back."

Alex said nothing; instead she squeezed his hand when she saw the headlights of the yellow Lada approaching in the distance.

Their decision was made.

_Seaview Hospital, Pine Valley, PA_

David Hayward scratched his stubble when he left the patient's room. The wall clock in the empty hallway let him know that it was five minutes after three in the morning, a time of day that, according to sleep researchers, was when the human body emitted the lowest ebb of energy.

The human body was designed to be asleep at three in the morning. Not to walk through hospital corridors.

An intern stared at him as he walked down the hall. Had the mans's eyes not lingered on him for more than a few seconds he wouldn't have said anything. But they did.

"What are you looking at?" David snarled at the young, Asian man.

"Nothing…I was just…"

"Just _don't,_" David cut him off.

The resident looked at him with obvious fear written all over his tired face.

David Hayward knew his reputation preceded him. Ever since being appointed Director of Cardiology at Seaview Hospital, he'd succeeded in spinning the rumour mill into an unprecedented frenzy. No one suspected he knew what the rumours were, but of course he did.

_They said he was a genius_. An inspired, phenomenally gifted physician that could stand alongside Christiaan Barnaard in the annals of cardio-thoracic surgery. That if the hands of David Hayward couldn't heal you, you weren't meant to live.

_They said he was a criminal_. He went to court and prison with the same frequency that other department heads visited the golf course. Only his genius kept him from long-term internment and trapped in a position that would be considered lofty by some, yet was, in fact, far beneath his talents.

_They said he was a bitter, broken man_. Months ago, he'd eloped with the city's Chief of Police, a woman whom he truly loved and adored. Yet she had gotten close to him only so as to persecute him for his crimes and illegal research. Then she left the country, carrying what was most likely another man's child.

_They said he suffered from delusions of grandeur_. Not satisfied with merely heading a hospital department, he spent his free time doing research in a secluded mountain cabin. One that held a fully equipped research laboratory. When no card-carrying facility granted him research rights, he would test the drugs on himself and, some insisted, on unsuspecting patients as well.

David Hayward made no efforts to deny the rumours. Even though he knew that not denying them would only validate them to those who wanted to believe them. No matter how bizarre they were.

David didn't care.

The intern that stood across from him now had probably heard the rumours too and David wondered what was running through the man's mind.

Maybe it wasn't the rumours he was thinking about, but the fact that David Hayward was also known for being arrogant and unyielding and having absolutely no patience or tolerance for human error.

Now that he took a closer look at the intern, David realized he'd been in an operating room with him last week. An OR nurse had dropped a scalpel during the procedure that day. David had neither acknowledged her error nor reprimanded her during the operation. Afterwards, he'd simply gone to the Chief of Staff's office and demanded to have her fired.

The corner of David's lips lifted into a smile. Maybe _that_ was what was running through the man's mind right now. David met the man's eyes and then walked away without so much as another word.

He heard the intern breathe an audible sigh of relief in the distance.

David, on the other hand, forgot about the young man as soon as he was out of his line of vision.

He approached the nurse's station and saw that the nurse on duty was the same Hispanic woman who'd been there when he started his shift almost sixteen hours earlier. She should have left four hours ago.

"Leti, I need you to make sure we run another EKG on Shiho Yamato, first thing tomorrow morning," he told her, placing a manila folder on the counter.

"It _is_ this morning already," she reminded him, sticking a chubby index finger on her watch face to prove her point.

"Whatever. You know what I mean." He rubbed his eyes. He was exhausted. Bone weary and tired. Tired enough to finally free his mind from the endless thoughts that ran through it whenever he was awake. It was precisely the state he wanted to be in.

"Why do you have to be such a jerk?" the woman asked him.

David raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"That poor intern nearly peed in his pants when you started in on him."

"What?"

He wouldn't have tolerated this kind of outburst from anyone but the woman who stood in front of him. Leticia Castillo was his Head Cardiology Nurse and she was also a tough as nails perfectionist, who just so happened to be old enough to be his mother. She probably should have retired long ago. But here she was, as much of a workaholic as he was.

Usually he hated insolence, but in the form of Leticia Castillo, and only because she was so very good at what she did, it was tolerable. The fact that she didn't fear him, like everyone else, only added to the respect he had for her.

"That intern," she repeated. "He's been here since god knows when today and now, at three in the morning, you've terrified him out of his mind because he thinks he might have looked at you the wrong way."

David shrugged. "What he thinks isn't my problem."

"Would it kill you to be pleasant for a few minutes each day?"

David smirked. "It might."

She frowned at him, the way a disappointed mother might frown at her son. "If I hear any more horror stories about you, I'll make sure you deal with me."

David leafed through her file folder looking for the Yamato case. "Horror stories?"

"That poor OR nurse…"

"Oh, her. She should've been fired months ago."

"She was a nervous wreck because you were in the OR with her!"

"If she can't control her nerves and keep focused on the patient in front of her, she's obviously in the wrong profession."

"She was a good nurse."

"No, she wasn't. She was a fumbling idiot."

Leticia sighed. "One of these days you're going to make a mistake, and you'll see that it doesn't mean you should be banned from medicine forever."

The comment elicited a smile from him. "Mistake? _Me_?"

Leticia's expression was stern but her eyes gave her away. David knew that, unlike every other employee at Seaview hospital; Leticia Castillo didn't despise him. "You're arrogant as hell," she told him. "I can put up with that, because you're a genius at what you do. But you're not a cruel man. So don't act like it."

"Okay, Mom."

"Don't Mom me," she hissed. "Just act like a decent human being. And before I forget..." Leticia handed him a file. "Gord wants you to take over Melissa Cartwright's case." Gordon Mackenzie was the Chief of Staff at Seaview Hospital. He reminded David of that uninspiring Martin that headed Pine Valley Hospital. A dinosaur who was more concerned with administrative facades than pioneering new medical breakthroughs.

"I can't."

Leticia pushed the folder towards him. "I didn't _ask_ you. It was an order from Gord. Apparently her parents insisted. You know her parents, right? Melissa Cartwright, daughter of _Senator_ Warren Cartwright."

David frowned, picking up the folder, vaguely remembering the face of the blonde girl who was admitted two weeks ago. "Melissa needs a heart transplant. Unless we have a heart, there's nothing I can do for her that Dr. Gutierrez can't do."

"You don't have to tell _me_ that. All I know is that her father somehow found out that you're our top dog and he wants nothing but the best for his daughter."

David started to read through her folder, his frown deepening. "It looks like she's in for a long wait." The girl was ill enough to be hospitalized for monitoring yet not ill enough to be anywhere near the top of the organ recipient registry. Her condition would have to deteriorate considerably before being placed on higher priority. Except by then, the rest of her organs and general health would have deteriorated too, therefore increasing the risks of rejecting a new heart and of having a difficult recovery. It was the Catch-22 of a system based on need rather than on the potential for success. Were it not for this inherent flaw, David was certain that the success rate of heart transplants might easily increase ten-fold.

Until then Melissa Cartwright would have to wait her turn. Even if she was the daughter of a Senator.

Leticia Castillo yawned and pulled pink, wool sweater over her uniform. "I'm heading down to the caf, do you want something?"

David shook his head, taking a seat on one of the two chairs in the nurse's station.

"Go home," she told him, as she made her way down the corridor. "Get some sleep."

David stared after her. Sleep. It had been a long time since he slept. Really slept. Not just closed his eyes between tossing back and forth. Lately, he only slept long enough to give his body the minimal rest it needed to function.

He set down the manila folder and closed his eyes.

As was the case every time his mind wasn't on work, he saw her.

Anna.

This time she was standing next to him, next to the fireplace in his cabin. Tossing the divorce papers he offered her to the ground.

"_Come here." She was wrapping her arms, around his neck. "Idiot. You're the best thing in my life."_

A smile creased the corner of his lips now. _And you were the best thing in mine._

_I messed it up. I lost it all. I lost you and I lost our child._

He'd been determined to go to Paris at first. To Robin, where he was sure Anna was staying in spite of the young woman's denials. But as long as he was still under investigation by the District Attorney, he wasn't allowed to leave Pine Valley.

Not that that alone wouldn't have stopped him.

It was his own fear that stopped him. The doubts he had that when he did see her, every word he uttered would only drive her farther away. That maybe, as Leo suggested, without his pressure and presence, she might change her mind on her own.

As long as he believed that, David could hope that there was still a chance.

In the meantime he'd rebuild his reputation, even if meant working endless, mindless hours in a second rate hospital that had been happy to hire him on his professional merits alone, regardless that he was still on probation. He would somehow prove to Anna that she was more important to him than his research and its ensuing accolades.

That she was worth more than the Nobel Prize.

If nothing else, work at least managed to keep him marginally sane. It kept his thoughts in check and gave him a focus he wouldn't have had without it.

'Besides, having a respectable job can't hurt in the eyes of the law,' he thought, rubbing his eyes. 'After all, I have nothing left to lose.'

And then, a few days later, to prove him wrong, Leo died.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

_Andrassy Estate, Vadsel, Hungary_

Alex sat at the old, wooden dining table, digging her nails into the peel of an orange, anxious as she listened to Dimitri, who was pacing around the room with a cordless phone in his hand.

He was speaking Hungarian and it frustrated her that she could only make out the occasional word here and there.

"Well?" she asked when he finally finished the conversation and set down the phone.

Dimitri took an orange slice from her hand and bit into it. "I don't know…it's odd. She said we should come down tomorrow to sign some more papers and see this immigration official in person. That if we could do that, it would expedite the process. That we could have Andrei here within two weeks."

Alex dropped the orange. "_Two weeks?"_

"That's what she said."

Alex could barely contain her excitement. "Dimitri! Two weeks is so much sooner than we expected!"

Dimitri enjoyed her reaction. "It is."

"But darling, we have nothing ready for him! We need everything. A crib, a stroller, diapers, toys, clothing...oh god, where do we start? His room… we need to decorate his room!"

Dimitri laughed. "You're right, we need supplies stat, doc. Why don't you go to Budapest with Marina tomorrow while I head back down to Romania? She said only one of us needed to be there to finalize things. "

Alex paused and adjusted her glasses to look at the wall calendar that hung in the distance. "The vets…half the horses are getting checked up tomorrow."

Dimitri cringed. "How could I forget? Damn it. Talk about awful timing."

"I could go to Bucharest instead of you," she suggested. "I know you wanted to be here for the check-up."

"I don't want you to travel to Romania alone. You don't speak the language..."

"Neither do you," she reminded him.

"I don't want you going alone," he reiterated, letting her know it wasn't something he was going to compromise on. "Why don't you stay here and keep an eye on the vets along with Jozsef?"

"With my Hungarian? How will I communicate with them?"

"Jozsef can translate for you. Besides, they know you're a doctor and that'll stop them from trying to pull the wool over your eyes."

"I could..." Alex thought about it. "But I really want to see Andrei again…I mean, we don't even know how he's doing? Are they taking care of him in that awful place?"

"If I go there tomorrow we could have him home in two weeks," Dimitri's eyes met hers. He was as excited as she was. "Two_ weeks!_"

The thought left her giddy. She wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. She was going to be a mother. "Alright, alright...in that case, you _have_ to go."

"You'll take care of the check-up?"

"Of course." She loved the horses as much as he did and given all the fee time she'd had since coming here it had been easy to learn everything there was to know about them. It wasn't just his livelihood, it was theirs. Alex knew Dimitri trusted her to make sure that whoever came in contact with his horses adhered to his standards. To make sure no unnecessary drugs were administered to any animal. In North America, most racehorses ran under the influence of performance enhancing steroids, anti-inflammatories and diuretics. But Dimitri was adamant about keeping his horses clean and racing them only on racetracks that prohibited all but the most essential drugs.

"I'll stay here and if it doesn't take all day, maybe I can drag Marina to Budapest, to go shopping with me."

He grinned, taking another slice of orange from her hand. "Good idea."

_Kampala, Uganda, Africa_

Robert watched Sandrine tap the pencil on her desk for the eighty-seventh time.

Dozens upon dozens of long, intricate braids shook ever so slightly each time she tapped down the writing implement on the plywood desk.

With the stealth of a tiger, Robert got up and snatched the pencil from her hand.

"Are you _trying_ to work me into a homicidal rage?" he demanded. Annoyed. "Because if you are, I have to commend you. It's working."

"Sorry."

"What's eating at you?"

"Nothing."

Robert waved a hand in front of her face. "You're staring into the wall like a zombie."

Sandrine got up and stretched her long legs. "Why are we still here in Uganda? Why haven't we gone back to Kinshasa? We could just as easily await the next assignment there."

The jungle raid had gone well.

Robert's hunch had proven correct and the two of them, with the help of several other agents had successfully stopped another diamonds-for-weapons exchange. Half a dozen arrests were made and diamonds worth over a million in US dollars were confiscated.

Robert shrugged his shoulders in response to her question. "Who knows why the WSB does what it does? Why don't you enjoy it? Think of it as a vacation." Their reports were done and all they had to do was wait for the next orders. "Maybe they want us to work out of Uganda for a while?"

"I'm not prepared for that. It's my father's birthday next week!"

Robert chuckled. So that was it. In spite of all her strength and grace, part of her could still act like a petulant child. Even after everything she'd gone through these past two years, there were times, like now, that she had a hard time believing anyone would dare to inconvenience her.

He draped an arm around her shoulder. "Come on, let's head outside and get to know this town."

"I already know Kampala. One of my sisters lives here."

For a change, he was the one coaxing her. "Then you can give _me_ a tour."

"It's like every city in Central Africa. Hot and chaotic."

"It's calm and provincial compared to the zoo in Kinshasa," he corrected her. After Paris, Kinshasa was the second largest French-speaking city in the world. It boasted a population of over five million; by comparison Kampala felt like a village.

"If you say so."

He pushed her out the door of the office. "Anything but sit in here, in this stuffy, airless room and watch you brood."

"I don't want to go…" she started.

"I didn't ask you."

As soon as they left the building, Robert hailed an eager taxi and instructed it to head down to the Nakasero market.

Stepping outside a few minutes later, Robert took a deep breath, a smile spreading over his face. This was one of his favourite things about living on this continent; the African market.

Countless market stalls underneath a wide blue sky. Stalls that were filled with round, hand-woven wicker baskets, laden down with fruit and nuts and vegetables. Pineapples, so large and juicy they made their North American counterparts look like imitations of the real thing. Mangos, lychees, apple bananas, matoke…fruits that once seemed foreign and exotic to him and now tasted as familiar as apples and oranges.

Women, wearing colourful dresses and headscarves and huge smiles walked by the stalls. Some stared at the middle aged white man, walking together with the tall African woman, almost a generation younger than he was.

Flat, long buildings full of merchants, many with complicated Indian names, surrounded the open market area, giving the entire space a sense of endless, bustling activity. People were everywhere. In cars, on foot, on bicycles, on carts pulled by donkeys. Everywhere. People.

Robert picked up two mangoes from a market stall and paid a woman more money for them than she asked. Instead of being content, she gave him a disappointed smile. Bargaining was part of the game and he'd just cheated her out of it.

Normally, Robert would have enjoyed watching Sandrine play the game. Like most Africans, she could bargain well, in more languages than anyone else he knew. And because she was beautiful and charming, prices often fell lower than they did for the most skilled negotiators.

But today she wasn't in the mood and he wasn't about to cajole her into it.

"Here," he said, handing her a mango.

She took it, but made no motion to peel or eat it.

"Is this foul mood of yours really just about missing your father's birthday?" he asked as they kept walking. They had visited more markets together than he could count. It had become their way of relaxing, of getting away from any horrors they might've encountered in the countryside. "You could speak to the department head and I'm sure he could fly you back to Kinshasa tonight if you wanted to. He owes us that much for that raid last week." Robert knew that of all her siblings, she was the one closest to her father.

"It's not about my father," she admitted, a scowl still on her face. Sandrine was so stubborn and obstinate sometimes, she reminded him of Anna. No matter how hard Anna tried to keep secrets from him, she too, hadn't often succeeded.

"It's about you."

Robert slowed down his pace, gently grabbing her arm. He was serious now, his good mood at seeing the market slowly evaporating. "Sandrine, what is it?"

She met his eyes, her face more serious than his, "I love you, Robert. You know that. I trust you with my life and I love you."

He said nothing. Of course he knew.

"Now, I don't know anymore…" she went on.

"Don't know what?"

"Whether I can trust you."

Robert was suddenly confused. Hurt. "I don't understand? Where is this coming from?"

Her eyes were wet now and her glare was accusatory. "Tell me one thing, Robert; and tell me the truth. Are you playing both sides?"

_Paris, France _

Anna fiddled with her silver Raymond Weil watch; twisting it around so she could look at the watch face.

Its band was too big and it hung loosely on her wrist. She had planned to have it fixed, but later decided that she liked it that way. It gave her something to toy with when she was nervous. It was a good alternative to biting her nails.

It was a beautiful watch. Elegant but not ostentatious. Most importantly it worked flawlessly. Sometimes when Anna looked at it she wished she could say it was a gift, but it wasn't. It was something she bought for herself after becoming Chief of Police of Pine Valley. It made sense then. The Chief of Police _should_ have a reliable timepiece. Besides, she'd felt that she deserved to treat herself. Getting the position meant she was on her way to getting her life back.

Anna tried to remember whether David had given her something to commemorate her appointment. He might have, she wasn't sure anymore. If he did, it was most likely flowers. He liked to bring her flowers and when he did it was always her favourites; tulips. Yellow, orange or red tulips. Sometimes a mixture of all three.

The unexpected memory was interrupted by the waiter who approached her table,

"_Madame, vous etes prete a commander?" _

Anna shook her head, letting him know she was waiting for someone else to join her. _"Pas encore. J'espere ma fille." _The language was slowly getting easier. Though far from perfect, it rolled off her tongue with a little less effort every day.

"_Bien sur."_

"_Merci." _

The restaurant was full and she didn't need her detective skills to realize that, in spite of his politeness, the waiter didn't appreciate the hold up.

Anna checked her watch again. Now it wasn't the watch face that held her attention is was the time itself. It was nearly eight twenty and she'd asked Robin to meet her here at eight o'clock. She'd simply left a message on Robin's phone, at a time when she knew it wouldn't be turned on. Telling her she would be here, waiting for her.

'It seemed like a clever idea at the time…' Anna thought, taking a sip of Perrier, seeing that a handful of people in the restaurant were looking at her, probably wondering whether she'd been stood up.

She saw a bald man looking in her direction and countered his stare with a cynical smile. 'It's okay...I'm wondering the same thing.'

Then she spotted her daughter entering the busy restaurant. Robin's cheeks were flushed red as though she had rushed to get here.

"Hey, sweetie!"

"Hey, Mom." She bent down to give her a kiss on the cheek before taking a seat across from her.

"I was starting to think you weren't going to make it."

Robin flung a large, satchel bag off her shoulders and pushed her hair behind her ears. "I did get your message, Mom, but I tried to call you at work and let you know I couldn't make it…'cause I promised one of my lab partners, Chantal, that I would help her out with some lab stuff tonight."

"Oh…then why didn't you leave a message?"

"I did…but I think there's something wrong with your phone at work. I kept getting disconnected whenever I wanted to leave message…"

Anna managed to give her a most convincing look of surprise. "Really? Strange?"

"It was…I think you should have someone look at it."

"So you were able to get away then?"

Robin nodded. "Yeah…I called Chantal. But I might head down to the lab after dinner though."

Anna cringed, pointing to her watch. "Robin…it's almost 8:30. Tell me you're not going back to the campus tonight. You've been gone since seven this morning."

Robin scrunched her nose. "How would you know? You were asleep when I left."

"So you think."

"So you _should_ have been." She grinned. "You're really starting to show now, Mom. You need lots of rest now. For the both of you."

The eager waiter approached them again, asking Anna the same question he did two minutes ago.

"_Un moment, s'il vous plait…y_ou haven't even had a chance to look at the menu, have you?" she asked Robin.

Robin quickly opened it and glanced inside.

Anna listened as Robin asked the waiter a few questions and then ordered their special of the day.

Robin frowned after the waiter left with both their orders. "Soup and salad? You have to eat more than that, Mom."

Anna bit her lip, steeling herself for the upcoming inquisition. "I just…I don't have much of an appetite at the moment."

"Did you tell your doctor about the continued morning sickness?"

"I did and he told me some women do have it for their entire pregnancy. He said as long as I can stay hydrated and keep up with the vitamins it shouldn't be a big problem."

"And the headaches?"

"Lots of women have headaches throughout their pregnancies. It's normal."

"You didn't tell him, did you? For god's sakes, Mom…would you stop trying to be so tough?"

Anna waved an exasperated hand in the air. "Robin! Can we have just have dinner together for one night, without you grilling me? Can we talk about…I don't know, your studies, your friends, Paris… boys?"

The comment elicited a genuine laugh from Robin. "Boys? I barely have time to eat and sleep these days."

"I noticed."

Robin sighed. "Med school's hard. It's even harder than everyone says it is. But I want this so badly. To be a doctor."

Anna reached across the table to take Robin's hand in hers, "I know…I know you do. But I wish you wouldn't push yourself so hard. You have HIV, your professors know that, right?"

Robin nodded, her expression serious now. "Most of them do but I've always made it very clear that I don't want any special treatment because of it."

"I'm not suggesting that. I just hope you know what your limits are, that's all."

Robin smirked. "Like you, huh?"

Anna rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

"How's the search for an apartment coming along?" Robin asked her, taking a slice of baguette from the basket on the table.

"Is that your way of telling me I need to find my own place?"

Robin chuckled, "You know you can stay with me as long as you like, Mom. I was just thinking you might like a bigger place of your own, where you wouldn't have to sleep on a sofa bed every night."

"Actually, I think I may _have_ found something…"

They chatted until the food arrived and for the first time since coming to Paris, Anna felt as though her daughter was someone she actually knew rather than a stranger she saw briefly in the morning and again before falling asleep at night. There was an easy banter between them and Anna's eyes lit up in delight each time Robin laughed at something she said. She looked happy and beautiful in the soft lighting of the restaurant and her face was the only thing Anna focused on.

She was almost disappointed when the food arrived because it meant the end of their conversation.

She watched as Robin took out two containers of medication and swallowed three pills. Anna hated the sudden reminder that nothing would ever be completely fine in Robin's life. No matter how much she wished and pretended.

The waiter placed down the plates and Anna stared at Robin's. "What is that?"

"Venison, in a red-wine peppercorn sauce. They make this really well here."

"And the little pastry balls on the side?"

"_Escargots_. Snails in a phyllo wrap." Robin lifted up her fork and made a gesture to give her some but Anna put up her hand.

"No, thanks. I'll pass."

Anna watched Robin eat, while she played with her own food. It wasn't that it didn't look appealing, in fact, just about everything edible _did _look appealing in Paris. Dining wasn't a necessity here, it was an experience. An experience that was never hurried and rarely neglected.

Anna moved a hand to her stomach, 'When you're here, baby and this constant nausea goes away, you can bet I'm going to enjoy the experience as much as any Parisian.' But until then, she fished for an occasional bite that she hoped she'd be able to keep down.

After their meal was finished, Anna watched Robin fidget in her seat.

"I should head back to the lab, Mom."

Anna raised her eyebrows, not bothering to hide her disappointment. "But…what about dessert?"

"I'm so stuffed, I couldn't eat another bite. This was really nice. Thanks for treating me."

"Don't thank me just… stay for dessert. Please?"

The satchel bag was already flung back over her small shoulder. "I really can't."

Anna's frustration mounted. "Can't or _won't_?"

"What?" Robin gave her a puzzled look.

"What is _going on_ with you, Robin? Why can't you spend even half an hour with me without running off?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Mom."

Anna suddenly realized it was time to stop pretending nothing was wrong. "Sit down, Robin."

Robin's gaze narrowed. Angry now at being scloded like a child. "What's gotten into you? People are staring…"

"I don't care. Let them. _We need to talk_."

"I don't have time right now."

Anna got up and put her hands on Robin's shoulders, making her sit back down, trying to ignore the irate look on her face.

"If I did something to upset you, you have to _tell_ me. I can't live with you like this."

"You didn't do anything, Mom…"

"_Stop it_!" Anna was as angry as Robin now. "Stop lying and tell me what's going on? Why do you shut me out and put up walls, whenever I feel like I'm starting to get to know you again?"

Robin's lower lip trembled and Anna felt as though she was in the process of tearing down one of those walls. It was something her daughter obviously didn't like one bit.

"You _don't_ know me anymore, Mom…you really don't."

Anna exhaled. It was true, the truth hurt. But at the same time it felt like a relief. Robin was finally angry enough to be honest.

"You're right.... I _don't_ know you anymore. I wasn't there with you for nine years…nine long years when I should have been there for you. But I want us to try and start over again. To try and start something new, because I love you so much…"

Robin shook her head. She was crying now. "Why do you have to do this? Why can't you just let things be?"

"I feel like I'm living a facade with you!"

Robin wiped an angry tear from her cheeks. "Things_ can't_ be the way they used to be!"

Anna wanted so much to pull Robin into a hug. "I don't understand…_why_?"

Robin stood up again, this time with a resolve that made it clear she wouldn't be nudged back into her seat. "You want to know why? You _really_ want to know, Mom?"

"I want us to be honest with one another, that's all. We always were."

"I can't let myself need you...and depend on you. Not anymore. The moment I do, you're going to leave again. That's the way it works."

Anna's eyes brimmed with tears. "You're wrong, Robin…I'm not going to leave you."

There was no anger in her daughter's face now. "You_ are _going to leave. I know that…but it's okay, I'm not a child anymore. This time, when you do leave, my world isn't going to come crashing down on me because _I won't let it._"

"Robin, whatever you go through from now on, we go through together. Please trust me when I say that."

Robin didn't seem to care that tears tumbled down her cheeks now. She made no move to brush them away.

She turned to leave, letting her know their conversation was over. "Good night, Mom."

Were it not for the unpaid bill, Anna would've run after her. "Robin! Come back…_please!_"

She stood up and felt a waiter's hand on her shoulder. _"Madame…c'est vraiment pas necessaire_…"

Only now did she notice that all the other diners in the restaurant were staring at her. Hot tears fell down her face and she saw a man mouth the word "_Americains_" in disdain.

"_I can't let myself need you...not anymore."_

"_You haven't looked after me for the last ten years, Mom. You don't have to start now."_

How did everything go so damn wrong?

_My baby won't even let me love her anymore._

Anna forced herself to sit down. Forced herself to take deep breaths in between her tears. She felt sick and put a hand on her stomach. 'It's okay, baby. I know…it's not your fault I let down your sister...I'm sorry.'

No one answered her and Anna sat alone at her table until she paid the bill. Until the other diners became too engrossed with their own food and conversation to care anymore about the momentary drama she'd provided them with.

Even the waiter, thankfully, didn't ask why her eyes were wet with tears when she left.

_Orphanage #17, Outside Bucharest, Romania_

This time there was no one to greet him when Dimitri entered the ugly, grey building. He made his own way to where he knew the administrative office was located, at the end of a long, poorly lit corridor.

The noise of children crying echoed in the background. It was as though the cries came from the walls of the building itself.

He knocked on the office but got no answer, so he opened the door himself. The woman who'd initially given them the tour of the orphanage, Alma, was seated at one of the two desks in the room.

"Ah, Mr. Marick…I'm glad you could come so soon. I have the most wonderful news for you."

"Wonderful news?"

"Yes. Incredible news. The papers you and your wife faxed us last week, the background check conducted by the government, everything has been processed much sooner than we anticipated."

Dimitri raised his eyebrows; his instincts suddenly, unexpectedly alerted. "That's, uh, that's great…"

"Emigration has issued all the necessary papers for Andrei to leave the country with you. Today, if you wish."

Dimitri's eyes widened. "_Today?"_

Alma looked at him. "Unless that's a problem?"

Dimitri wasn't sure what to say. "No...no, of course not."

A man entered the office and Dimitri turned to look at him.

"Ah, Mr. Marick." The man spoke perfect English. "I shall get Andrei for you."

Alma said something to him in Romanian and the man went back outside. Dimitri could have sworn he saw the trace of a genuine smile on her lips. "He's going to get your son. It is very exciting," she told him. "Would you like to take a seat?"

"No…" Everything was surreal. Sitting was the last thing he wanted to do. Was he expected to leave this building with a baby in his arms? Just like that? 'I don't even have any diapers to change him…' was the first thing he thought.

Dimitri waited several long minutes, one crazy thought after another flying through his mind, until the door of the office finally opened again.

The same man came back and he wasn't carrying a baby. Instead, Dimitri saw a boy, maybe ten or twelve years old, standing next to him.

Dimitri gave him a puzzled look.

"Andrei said he is looking forward to being part of your family," the man announced giving the boy a push, so that he stood right in front of Dimitri.

Dimitri stared at the boy. He looked vaguely familiar and he suddenly remembered why. He'd careened down the hallway and rammed into Alex on their first visit. He'd called her a name of some sorts. Dimitri remembered glaring at him.

"What's going on here?" Dimitri asked Alma.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand?"

Dimitri stared at her. "This boy isn't Andrei."

Alma looked surprised. She was a phenomenal actress. "Yes it is. This is Andrei Ionescu. All the papers you signed specified Andrei Ionescu as the child you wished to adopt."

Dimitri felt a knot forming in his stomach. They were playing a game. A con game of sorts and he was the target.

He was icily calm now. "The baby. The little boy with AIDS. You said his name was Andrei Ionescu. We made it very clear which child we wanted to adopt."

Alma tossed a folder full of documents onto her desk. "I don't know which other child you're talking about. Andrei is a common name at this orphanage. I don't remember a little boy with AIDS. Your Andrei is perfectly healthy."

"The little boy…in the room upstairs. The room full of babies," Dimitri started, knowing full well it was futile.

Alma seemed unperturbed. "I can take you up to that room, if you wish. You can show me the child you_ think_ you were filing the papers for."

Dimitri knew it was pointless. That even if she escorted him up to the room he'd been to with Alex, he wouldn't find the little boy there. The baby would have been moved. Hidden.

He'd seen enough backhanded deals in his life to know he had two options at this point. He could walk away. Or pull out a check book.

"How do we rectify this situation?" he asked through clenched teeth. Rising anger threatened his calm.

"You're saying this is not the child you wish to adopt?" Alma pointed towards the young boy in the room. "Andrei Ionescu? For whom you filed all these papers?"

"We both know he's not," Dimitri stared at the boy and thought he detected a glimmer of disappointment in his odd, grey eyes. "Just as you know _exactly _which child we filed these papers for. Now tell me what it is that you want me to do."

"Sometimes things get mixed up," the man started. "Wrong papers are filed accidentally."

Andrei stared at Dimitri, taunting him now. The boy had obviously played this game before.

"But not to worry," the man told him. "Mistakes can be corrected. Although starting new adoption proceedings can take a long time. Once a mistake is made, the authorities become suspicious and they investigate the adoption in greater detail."

"Unless…?" Dimitri demanded.

"Romania is still a poor country, Mr. Marick," Alma started, weighing her words carefully so as to make no doubt of their intent.

"So it's more money you want," Dimitri cut her off. "How much?"

"Sometimes, money helps speed things up, that's all. Because there was an error in the proceedings they will have to start again, from the beginning. That takes time."

"_How much_?" Dimitri repeated.

Alma didn't like his directness. It was throwing her off. She obviously wasn't accustomed to it from desperate parents-to-be. "Twenty thousand US dollars," she told him.

Twenty-thousand wasn't a particularly large sum. Not to Dimitri Marick. Given the right circumstances, he might easily have spent that amount on a hand-tailored suit, or a piece of jewellery for Alex.

Normally he also wouldn't have conceded defeat as easily. But this wasn't business. It was about a baby boy with AIDS. A boy who didn't have time to waste.

"$20,000 can correct many mistakes," Alma added.

"I want to see the boy," Dimitri told her. "The _other_ Andrei. And I want a witness of my own choosing."

"I will personally take you up to our infant's room."

Dimitri pulled out a checkbook. "$10,000 now and $10,000 when I have the boy."

Alma smiled, nodding. She'd obviously played this game before.

Dimitri glanced at the boy in the room. He wondered how often they had brought him here to shock other potential parents. Why him? Was it because he was particularly unattractive? His small, wiry frame made it nearly impossible to determine his age. He also had crooked teeth that gave him an odd smile. Was he the 'least adoptable' of all their children? The one they were certain no parent would want to be stuck with?

_Was he so undesirable that any sum of money seemed reasonable to correct the awful mistake?_

'What must it be like to be you?' he wondered, staring at him. 'To see people recoil when they think they got stuck with you?'

The boy shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to taunt him again, but not entirely capable of it. Not with Dimitri staring into his eyes as if trying to read his thoughts.

"Stupid man," he told him in English. "You fill out papers wrong. You don't have baby you want. You have me." The boy tried to laugh but was making a lousy effort of it.

Dimitri wasn't sure whether Andrei was trying to laugh at him or at the absurdity of being adopted. Was Andrei even his name?

There was a silence in the room now. Dimitri couldn't stop staring at him. 'What if one day, someone were to prove you wrong?' he wondered. 'What if one day someone actually said they wanted_ you_? Would it change your life forever?'

_Everything happens for a reason_.

The boy saw the uncomfortable silence as a challenge. He looked as though he actually enjoyed parts of the game. "You have to pay because you are too stupid." He barely noticed that Alma's hand reached forward to slap his ear. She shouted something to him in Romanian that Dimitri couldn't understand.

Andrei didn't flinch. He wondered whether this Dimitri Marick was also going to reach over and slap him. Alma wouldn't mind, Andrei knew that. There was another couple here last week, and the husband had done just that. Slapped him.

Dimitri didn't slap him.

But he did do something else that shocked him more than any physical rage could have done.

He tore up the cheque he was writing to Alma.

"Actually… there's no mistake," he announced. He took a deep breath, accentuating every word. "This is exactly the boy we wanted."

Alma blinked, twice. "Excuse me?"

The colour drained from Andrei's face. This man. This Dimitri Marick. He was joking.

"You said the papers were all in order and that I could leave the country with him at my earliest possible convenience, isn't that right?"

"Yes, but…" the other man in the office didn't know what to say.

"Well, then that's what we'll do."

Dimitri draped his arm around the boys shoulder and managed a smile. "Right, Andrei?"

Andrei's grey eyes widened. He was joking. He was trying to call Alma's bluff. Andrei had to give him credit for that. None of the other parents had tried that. But it wasn't a bluff and as soon as Dimitri Marick realized that he would pull out another check.

"You wish to adopt _this_ boy?" Alma asked him incredulously.

"Yes. _This_ boy."

Dimitri watched Alma whisper something to the man. He wondered why she bothered whispering. He couldn't understand a word of Romanian. Maybe she didn't want Andrei to hear.

"Fine," she said, dumbfounded. She might not have gotten what she wanted, but she had to play along with her own game.

She held the papers in front of his eyes. Furious. "This is not a joke, Mr. Marick. If you sign here, on the dotted line, you will have finalised your adoption of Andrei Ionescu."

Dimitri pulled a Waterman pen out of his shirt pocket and signed. He looked at Andrei and picked up a copy of the papers. "Ready?"

Andrei stared at him and followed him out of the office only because Alma threatened to slap him again if he didn't.

"Why you do this?" Andrei demanded as soon as they were in the hallway. "If I go outside with you and you leave me, I have to go back here. Then they will beat me."

"Why would I leave you out there? Apparently I just adopted you."

"You think this is funny thing?" he demanded.

Dimitri shook his head, heading out of the building, with Andrei walking behind him. "I'm not laughing."

"Stupid man."

The fact that Andrei kept calling him that was getting on his nerves. Yet once they were outside Dimitri could see the boy had a point. His knees went weak the second he realized what he'd done.

_Have you completely lost your mind?_

"Why you are doing this? Why you lie and say you want me?"

"Maybe I'm not lying. Maybe I do want to adopt you."

"You lie. Everybody wants babies. Everybody."

Dimitri's hands shook as he called for his driver on the cell phone. _'You can still turn around now and walk back into that orphanage and tell them you suffered from temporary insanity…they have to take him back. After shamelessly trying to blackmail you, it's the least they can do.' _

The driver would be here in minutes. If they drove to the airport now and all went well with Andrei's supposedly legitimate papers, they could be in Budapest in a few hours. At Vadsel not long after.

_Alex. Oh, god._

_She's going to kill me._

Dimitri wiped a drop of sweat from his forehead. No, not the airport. He would take the train back to Hungary with Andrei.

That would give him some more time. More time to try and make sense of what had just happened.

Because, right now, not much made sense anymore.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

_En route to Hungary from Romania, by train_

Dimitri Marick made the mistake of falling asleep.

After flying to Romania from Vadsel, travelling to the orphanage and making the craziest decision of his life, then driving back to Bucharest, waiting five hours for the next train back to Hungary; he was tired.

Less than an hour into the train ride his eyes closed and he fell asleep. It couldn't have been for long.

Now as his eyes slowly opened, the first thing he noticed was that the seat next to him was empty.

"Andrei?"

He also noticed that the train had stopped moving. That in itself wasn't particularly surprising. It wasn't an express train, so naturally it made stops along the way. Dimitri glanced out the window and saw they were stopped at a train station.

"Andrei"? he repeated, louder this time. Dimitri got up and scanned the seats around him. There were no signs of the boy he'd taken from the orphanage.

He looked at his watch to see how long he'd been asleep.

Except the watch was no longer on his wrist.

"Damn it," he cursed. Andrei had stolen his watch while he was asleep. "And my cufflinks," he mumbled when he noticed the sleeves of his shirt flapping around his wrists. Dimitri groped for the wallet in his pocket, surprised that it was still there.

He glanced out the window and spotted a familiar face. That of Andrei sticking out his tongue at him and waving goodbye.

It was just then that the train started moving again.

"Damn..."

Dimitri ran down the aisle, towards the nearest exit door. By the time he got to it, he could barely make out Andrei's figure in the distance. The train was gathering speed as it left the station.

"If you don't do this right now, it's going to be too late," he told himself.

He'd somehow managed to go his entire life without jumping from a moving train and had been perfectly content with that. Why was he chasing after a teenage thief? A thief who obviously didn't want anything to do with him.

'Because he's yours now,' he answered his own question.

Without a second thought, Dimitri closed his eyes and leapt from the train. He fell hard onto the gravel road that was next to the tracks, feet first. Then he rolled over twice before finally landing on his back with a thud.

He groaned when he got up, wiping the dust off his pants. Pants that were now torn in several places.

He spotted Andrei still standing at the train station, before turning to see the train travelling away from both of them, in the other direction.

His day kept getting better and better.

Andrei gave him a bewildered look, astonished at what had just happened. Only when he saw Dimitri starting to run towards him, did he realize what that implied and he too began to run.

'Great,' Dimitri cringed. He would have to chase after his adopted thief. He ran after the boy, much to the surprise of several curious onlookers.

"Andrei! _Stop_!" he yelled after him.

Andrei was fast, but, surprisingly, Dimitri was faster.

He caught up to him and grabbed the boy's shirt. "For Christ's sakes, would you stop already?"

Andrei wormed his way out of Dimitri's grip and tried to run off again.

But he was out of energy.

He was completely out of breath and Dimitri tackled him to the ground with ease. For a moment, both of them lay there, exhausted, panting, on the dirt road.

"Why the hell did you run away?"

Andrei's face and hair were covered in dust. "Because I don't want to go with you."

"You couldn't have mentioned that back in Bucharest?"

"Why you want me?" Andrei demanded.

Dimitri frowned. "Why do you keep asking that?"

Andrei's eyes glared at him. "I know…I know some people they take older boys for movies."

"Movies?" Dimitri shook his head, still pinning the boy to the ground. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm not stupid," he announced, frustrated that he wasn't strong enough to wrestle himself from Dimitri's grasp.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Dimitri repeated.

"Sex movies!" he spat out.

Dimitri released his grip, his anger suddenly replaced with shock. He shook his head again and stared into Andrei's eyes. "I didn't adopt you to take advantage of you." He wasn't sure whether the boy understood. "I would never hurt you. I'd never hurt a child...I couldn't." It wasn't hard to sound convincing. It was the truth.

Andrei's glare lost of touch of its hostility but Dimitri still didn't think the boy believed a word of what he said.

One thing was certain, he couldn't keep him pinned down until they reached Vadsel. He had to earn enough of his trust to at least stop him from running away at the next opportunity.

"Look," Dimitri sat up and took his hands off him. "I won't _make_ you go with me," he said softly.

Andrei said nothing, his scowl telling him he wasn't convinced.

"Honestly. You're not a prisoner."

Andrei made no move to run.

"Tell me, where are you going to go, if you don't come with me?"

Andrei said nothing.

"One Swiss watch and a pair of gold cufflinks are only going to get you so far. Until you end up in another orphanage."

He thought he saw Andrei blush.

"I can't promise you that you're going to love your new home. But I can give you more than _this_…I can give you a chance. A home and a future."

"_Why_? Why you want _me_?" he insisted.

Dimitri grimaced in the blinding sun. Whatever he said would have to be simple. Plausible and honest. No great pronouncements of love at first sight. _Not that I'd buy that one either, if I were you._

"Why do you keep doubting that I want to adopt you? You were there in that office…why _not_ you? If it was another boy I'd have taken _him_…but it wasn't. It was you, so just leave it at that and stop questioning it."

Andrei scratched his thick, dark brown hair. He did that often, Dimitri noticed. 'He probably has lice,' Dimitri thought with a frown. Given the conditions at the orphanage, it wouldn't surprise him.

"So you want to give this a try or not?"

Andrei made no move to run away. Perhaps that was his equivalent to a yes.

Dimitri stood up and held out his hand. "Come, let's go back to the train station and get something to eat while we wait for the next train."

"I am hungry," Andrei announced.

Dimitri managed a meagre grin. "Yeah, come to think of it, I am too. Jumping out of trains seems to work up an appetite."

Andrei stayed a full, cautious pace behind him when they started walking back to the train station.

Dimitri wondered when the next train to Hungary would arrive, when something else suddenly occurred to him. 'The papers…' While jumping from the train he hadn't thought to bring along the adoption papers and legal documents that would allow Dimitri to cross the border with him.

He cringed, 'Great…now I have to catch that train again before it crosses the border with my papers in it.'

He fished for his wallet and realized he was about to make a local taxi driver very happy.

_Seaview Hospital, Pine Valley, PA_

David Hayward observed the chart on the wall.

Melissa Cartwright had a congenital heart defect.

Her parents had likely known since the day she was born that she would one day need a heart transplant. Her childhood would have been punctuated by frequent stays in hospitals, more medication than any young girl should have to take and the constant fear that one day her heart would begin its slow path to deterioration, as it did a few weeks ago.

Melissa Cartwright needed and deserved a physician who wouldn't just treat her condition, but who would inspire her and motivate her to hold on as long she needed to. Until they had a heart to give her. A physician who would give a hundred and ten percent to convince her he would do everything in his power to make sure she won her battle.

'How the hell am I supposed to be that physician?' David asked himself. 'I barely care whether I get up in the morning or not.'

Leo's funeral took place less than a week ago.

Somehow, he'd pulled himself together enough to give the eulogy. Enough to comfort Greenlee and Maggie. And when he left the chapel that day to return to his isolated cabin he realized there was nothing left he had to give.

He was empty.

He didn't care about anything anymore. He didn't care about finding Anna. Or about having his charges dropped. Furthering his career meant nothing.

He didn't particularly care how he looked when he left his home in the morning. Whether his patients recovered quickly, slowly or not at all. He didn't care whether the rumours about him escalated or stopped altogether.

He often forgot to eat, shave and sleep. Sometimes all three within the span of a day.

After Anna, Leo was the only person who had any faith in him. The only person who truly meant something to him. His brother, in flesh and in his heart. If anyone could make things right, it was Leo.

And now he was gone.

With Leo gone, nothing mattered anymore.

"Are you going to stand there all day and stare at her chart, or are you going to go in and see her?" Leticia interrupted his thoughts.

"Leave me alone," he grumbled.

Leticia ignored the outburst. "Gord Mackenzie wants to know why you haven't taken over as her primary physician yet."

"Because my brother died last week and I was off until today."

Leticia put her hand on his arm. "Look, I know. I'm sorry. I'm just letting you know he's on your case."

David nodded. "You tell him I've taken over her case as of today."

Leticia lowered her eyes. "Good. Melissa's a sweetheart. You'll love her. Trust me. She deserves the best doctor we have, and that's you."

David said nothing.

Leticia lowered her eyes. "I really am sorry about your brother."

"I know." Among a staff of over eight hundred, Leticia was the only one of his co-workers who'd come to the funeral. "Tell Gord the senator's daughter's in good hands."

David went to the girl's room without another word. Melissa was awake so he made an effort to contort his lips into a smile. He doubted it actually resembled one. In fact, the forced smile probably made him look constipated instead of happy.

"Hi Melissa." He held out his hand to her. "My name is David. I'm going to be your new doctor."

The girl looked at him with a mixture of disappointment and trepidation. "What about Jennifer?" Dr. Jennifer Gutierrez was her previous physician. Although David thought she was merely competent, he knew she was well liked, especially by the hospital's younger patients.

"Jennifer will still come by and see you sometimes. But I'll be the one who checks on you daily and controls your treatments."

"Are you David _Hayward_?" she asked him, curiosly.

"Yes, I am. Why?"

"Your brother died last week didn't he?"

"He did, yes."

"You must be really sad then."

David bit his lower lip. "I am sad, yes, but I it's not something I'd like to discuss right now."

"I'm sorry," Melissa apologized and paused. "You're also really good aren't you?"

"What?"

"You're, like, this brilliant surgeon. That's what I heard." She had a small, pale round face with light, blue eyes. She seemed perceptive beyond her twelve years of age, as kids who were sick their whole lives often were.

"I have a reputation in my field but that doesn't matter." Her inquisition was making him uncomfortable and were she not twelve years old he would have ended it right then and there.

"Yeah it does," she came close to cutting him off. She propped herself up on the pillows on her bed and David saw her face strain with exertion at the movement. "Are you going to cure me?" she asked.

"You need a heart transplant, Melissa. You know that. Without a heart there's not much I can do."

Melissa sighed. "What's the point then?"

"Of what?"

"Of you being my doctor? Why can't Jennifer be my doctor?"

David sat down on the side of her bed. "Your parents specifically requested me to be your physician."

"I won't tell them, if you don't."

David managed a smirk. "Sorry, kid. That's not the way it works."

Melissa sank back into her pillows. "But you wish you didn't get stuck with me, right?"

David was taken aback. It was a rather heady accusation coming from a pre-teen. "Melissa, I don't think of myself as being _stuck_ with you. I would have checked up on you no matter what. I'm the head of the department. I consider all patients in Cardiology to be _my_ patients."

The girl turned on her side and yawned, as if no longer interested in the conversation. "If you say so."

"Melissa," David pulled out his stethoscope. "I need to listen to your heartbeat and ask you some questions, okay?"

"Uh huh. But I'm really tired, so if you don't mind, don't take too long."

David nodded. "I'll do my best."

Melissa turned onto her back again locking her eyes with his, without a word. And when she saw the poorly masked indifference in them, she sighed a quiet sigh of profound disappointment.

_Kampala, Uganda, Africa_

Robert sat across from Sandrine in the dimly lit restaurant.

Restaurant was really too kind a word to describe the space they sat in. The plastic tablecloth on their table had burn holes where previous diners that used them as an ashtray. There were food stains on the wall next to them.

Still, there were advantages to the shabbiness. The restaurant wouldn't be frequented by any government employees, most certainly not by the WSB. It also boasted a diverse enough clientele that a black woman and white man wouldn't stand out. In fact, very little would stand out here.

A waiter, wearing a dirty apron, handed them a menu consisting of two tattered, yellowed pages.

"Thank you," Robert heard Sandrine mutter.

"Are you going to tell me what that was about? That little accusation out in the market?"

"It wasn't an accusation. I asked you a question. One which you still haven't answered."

"You asked me whether I'm playing both sides of the game. You said you can't trust me any more. Sounds like an accusation to me."

"_Are_ you playing both sides?"

Robert had never seen her quite so angry. So hurt. "Why would you ask me that?"

"You're still not answering my question. I guess the fact that you're not denying it says it all."

Her English had gotten so good. Had the topic of conversation been anything else he would have told her so. Instead he tried to avoid her icy glare.

"Tell me why you're asking and I'll give you an answer."

"The WSB thinks you are. They want me to spy on you. To report back to them."

Robert made an effort not to show how much her revelation shocked him.

_The WSB suspected him_.

Robert always believed he was too good to get caught. This wasn't good news. Not for him and not for Anna and Robin.

"So what do you do? You go ahead and _tell_ me?" He managed a nervous chuckle. "What kind of a lousy spy are you? I taught you better than that."

"Don't joke with me."

"Who's joking? You're jeopardizing your career, aren't you?"

"The WSB doesn't know that I love you. _More_ than my career."

Robert cringed. Sandrine had always been brutally honest with him. Because that's who she was. If she loved him, she told him so. There was no awkwardness. No hesitation. It didn't matter whether or not he'd return the sentiment. She'd given herself to him and asked nothing in return. Nothing except honesty.

_And I didn't even give you that._

He didn't deserve her. He knew it.

"Are you finally going to tell me the truth?"

"You're right. I haven't been completely honest with you."

Sandrine eyes darkened. Two jet black orbs of bitter disappointment. "I don't understand, Robert. All this time, you taught me to fight for justice. You showed me how to help my people and now you're telling me it was all a lie? You helped me stop the illegal diamond trade while you were pocketing the profits?"

Robert hated seeing her like this. He hated hurting her.

"I've done some things that I'm not proud of…but you don't know the whole story. You don't know the _reasons_, Sandrine."

Her anger was mixed with incredulity. "What reasons could you possibly have? You have gambling debts you have to pay off? You need money for what exactly? My father has money. You could have _asked!_"

"Sandrine," his hand reached across the table to touch her arm. "Give me a chance to explain. Let me tell you the whole story."

_Andrassy Estate, Vadsel, Hungary_

"Alexandra my dear, do you think you could stop pacing? You're giving me a headache."

Alex eyed the blonde housekeeper, Marina, who'd finally, thankfully, stopped calling her Doctor Marick.

Alex ran a hand through her hair and stopped in her tracks, noticing only then the path she was carving out of the thick, red carpet. "I'm sorry…but I feel like I'm going crazy. It's been three days and not one word from him! The orphanage said he left two days ago…"

"I'm sure your husband is alright. Mr. Marick is a smart man. Whatever situation he's in, I'm certain he'll find his way out."

Alex raised her eyebrows. _"Situation?"_

The older woman put a hand on her arm. "I meant to say he's fine. I'm sure he is."

"He could be lying in some Romanian hospital, unconscious or injured or heaven knows what!"

The older woman had never seen her like this. Normally Alexandra Marick was cool and seemingly detached, like most English people she knew. But instead of being annoyed, Alexandra's nervousness almost made her smile. Marina had known Dimitri since he was twelve years old and loved him like a son. The fact that cool and collected Alexandra Marick was a mess, meant her love for him ran deep.

"You have done everything you could."

"It's not like him to not call me for three days, especially now. And to leave his cell phone turned off?" Alex had called the orphanage, the authorities at Bucharest-Otopeni International airport. She'd even gone so far as to call her sister and have Anna use her connections with Interpol to launch an inquiry with the Romanian police.

For the first two days Alex had been too busy to give in to her fears, as she did now. First there was the tedious veterinary check up with the horses, and then she'd gone to Budapest, to shop for baby items, and spent the next day decorating Andrei's new room.

But now, all she could think about was Dimitri. _What if something's happened to him?_ It was an unthinkable thought, and she tried to brush it from her mind.

"Laszlo knows Romania well. He frequently does business there. Perhaps there is something he could…" Marina's words were cut off mid-sentence, by the sound of voices entering the estate.

Alex heard the sound of footsteps approaching and then the door opened and Dimitri stood in front of her.

Alex flew into his arms.

"Where the hell have you been?" She cupped his face with her hands, standing on her toes to kiss him, so that his three-day beard scratched her chin.

"I'm sorry, I should have called..."

Alex stared at him in disbelief. "I was worried sick about you and that's all you have to say? 'I should have called'?"

"There are some things that happened in Romania. Things that I wanted to tell you in person."

Marina interrupted before Dimitri had a chance to say more.

"You look exhausted, Mr. Marick. Why don't you have a seat and let me bring you some tea."

Dimitri nodded, "Thank you."

Alex waited until Marina left the room before moving to take a seat next to Dimitri. She was right; he looked as though he hadn't slept in the last three days. His clothes were dirty and torn. It suddenly made Alex regret her anger.

She gently took his hand, clasping it between hers, "Darling…what happened in Romania? Is something wrong with Andrei?"

Alex sensed that he was bracing her for something.

"I don't think the orphanage was very straightforward with us when it came to Andrei."

"What do you mean? Is he... more ill than they let on?"

"No…not that," Dimitri shook his head. "I mean, I don't know. I don't know if his name was even Andrei."

"What are you saying?"

"When I got there they tried to con me into giving them another twenty thousand, in order to correct some mixed up paperwork that would delay the adoption."

"What?" Alex couldn't believe what he was telling her.

"Then they brought out another boy, a teenager. Saying the papers we signed were for _him_."

"How is that possible? Laszlo did all the legal work, the translating…"

"There was nothing wrong with the papers we thought we signed. It was a con, Alex. One they've obviously used before."

"So what did you do?"

"I …uh…"

Alex held his hand tighter, wondering why he suddenly avoided her gaze. "Darling…what happened?"

"I made a crazy decision. One that I shouldn't have made without…" He was interrupted as room's heavy, wooden door creaked open. Alex thought maybe Marina was back, with some tea. Instead, she saw a boy's dishevelled head peaking in.

"You have finished talking yet?" the boy asked Dimitri.

Alex stared at him.

Upon seeing her, his lips slowly moved into a smirk. "Hi, Mom."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

_Andrassy Estate, Vadsel, Hungary_

Alex didn't know what to say.

She stared first at the boy, peeking into the room, and then at Dimitri.

"Darling, what's going on? Who is this boy?"

"You are not finished talking, are you? You are very slow," the boy told Dimitri, lowering his arms with an audible sigh.

Dimitri moved a hand to his temple. "This…this is Andrei..." he started.

Alex raised her brows, not understanding. "_Andrei_? Did he...grow_ that_ much in the last month?"

"I was just about to explain…"

Alex walked towards the boy, giving him a gentle nudge. "Do you mind waiting outside for a moment, while I finish talking with Dimitri?"

Andrei shrugged his shoulders, indifferent. "Sure." He looked at Dimitri before leaving, shaking his head in disdain.

"You are in big trouble. _Big_ trouble. Your wife, she wants a baby. I told you everybody wants babies."

He slammed the door shut behind him.

Alex closed her eyes, took a deep breath and leaned against the closed door. "Tell me I'm dreaming. Tell me you didn't adopt this boy without so much as asking me."

Dimitri winced, unable to look at her right then. "I don't know to explain it. He…he sat there in that office, taunting me, knowing no one would ever adopt him. It's why the orphanage used…"

Alex didn't let him finish. "_You adopted him to prove_ _a point_? Heaven forbid someone should challenge Dimitri Marick? Is _that_ it?"

"No…no, of course not!"

"So in your sudden desire to adopt this boy, it didn't occur to you to maybe... pick up your mobile and give your wife a call? 'Hi honey, do you mind if we adopt a... what, a twelve year old, instead of the baby we both agreed on?' "

"He's fifteen. He's just small."

Alex's eyes widened. "A teenager. That's…that's just great."

"I should have discussed this with you…" Dimitri managed. "I _know_."

Alex's disbelief merged with anger, as she moved towards him. "Do you know what I did while you were in Romania?"

Dimitri said nothing, guilt and exhaustion etched all over his face.

"I went to shop for baby clothes and baby furniture. I decorated Andrei's room…there's a crib there, and a changing table. A dozen stuffed animals...and the wallpaper," her voice was breaking now, the anger blending into tears. "I put up this adorable wallpaper. Mickey Mouse in this little red costume. The Sorcerer's Apprentice…or something like that."

"Alex, I…"

"And then you come home three days later…_with a teenager_? Just like _that_?"

"It's crazy. I know," he conceded.

Alex glared at him, throwing her arms into the air in frustration. "_Crazy_? Crazy doesn't begin to describe it! If I didn't know you, I'd say you've completely lost your mind!"

He watched her wipe away her tears and moved to put his arms around her. "Darling…please, sit down. We need to talk about this."

She brushed them off. "Oh, I see. _Now_ we need to talk about it!"

"Alex…"

"Sorry…now _I'm _not in the mood to talk about it!" She opened the door of the dining room and slammed it shut behind her, running down the hallway.

Dimitri's opened it again, staring down the hallway after her. "Alex!"

Andrei shook his head, watching her, before turning to Dimitri. "See, I was right. _Big_ trouble. Go back and get the baby."

Dimitri looked at him in frustration, "No. No baby. Alex will come around, you'll see. She's just…a little surprised, that's all."

Andrei sighed. "You are not very smart."

_Kampala, Uganda, Africa_

They left the restaurant because Robert insisted on it.

"We're in a local dive…there are no bugs here. At least no electronic ones," Sandrine pointed out.

"If I tell you what I'm about to tell you, then I risk everything I've worked to keep secret for the last ten years. I'm not taking any chances."

Sandrine frowned. "I'm not forcing you to tell me anything you don't want to."

Robert put his arms around her shoulders. "Let's head down to the water. Please?"

Sandrine said nothing, letting him lead her.

They flagged another taxi and directed it to the waterfront. When Robert spotted an industrial area, where several cargo ships were docked, he instructed the driver to let them out.

"So here we are, in a dark, unpleasant part of town, full of warehouses and deep water…if I didn't trust you I would say you're going to kill me for knowing too much."

Robert frowned. "That's not funny. I would never hurt you. You know that."

"So what are you going to tell me?"

"Let's walk," he insisted.

When she observed him, Sandrine noticed he was breathing heavier than usual; that there was a thin line of perspiration that ran along the collar of his shirt, one that had nothing to do with the humidity.

For the first time since she met him, he was nervous.

"My name isn't Roger Saunders," he said softly, quickening his pace, instinctively looking over his shoulder, as if saying the name aloud could bring back the past. "It's Robert Scorpio."

Sandrine didn't want to give him the satisfaction of her surprise.

"That's why you insisted on being called Robert," she said calmly. "Because it was easier for you. Not because it's your middle name."

"True," he admitted. There was an endlessly long pier that stretched out into the blue waters of Lake Victoria ahead of them. Robert turned towards it. "Robert Scorpio died aboard a tanker explosion in Venezuela almost ten years ago."

"I don't understand…you faked your own death?"

"Yes…and no. At the time of the explosion I was Police Commissioner of a town called Port Charles, in the US. My wife, Anna, was in a lot of trouble. The WSB had issued a Black Box order against her. There was a man by the name of Cesar Faison in the equation too. He was obsessed with Anna and did everything in his power to ruin our lives."

"You were married?" Sandrine's eyes darkened at the news. He was considerably older than her, why wouldn't he have been? He had never confessed to loving only her, or loving her at all. Still, the revelation stung. So did the fact that he hadn't told her before.

"Anna and I met each other in the WSB. We were both field agents. It seems like a lifetime ago now."

"A Black Box Order?" Sandrine suddenly realized what that implied. It was an outdated policy but Sandrine knew of it. "Is an order to kill, for reasons of treason or risk to the Bureau, isn't it?"

Robert nodded. "Yes...they're no longer issued by the WSB. They'd be considered barbaric in our politically correct society. Things were more black and white back then." He paused, "Cesar Faison was the head of the DVX at the time the order was issued."

Sandrine's mind spun. "The DVX? The DVX were hired assassins that dealt in organized crime, corporate espionage…everything I've heard about the organization is bad. How did your wife know him?"

Robert sighed. "I didn't know it when I married her, but Anna was involved with the DVX, and Faison, well...he had a hard time letting go of his acquisitions. Anna wanted out of the DVX. Desperately. But Faison didn't like the idea of losing his favourite agent."

"He wouldn't let her go?"

"He set her up. And that's when I found out she was a double agent. As soon as I knew, I wanted a divorce."

"You left her?"

"I did. I remarried..."

"You were married _more_ than once?" Sandrine wondered why the revelations hurt so much.

Robert went on, ignoring her question. "But Anna came back into my life. It was then that I found out I had a daugther that I didn't know about."

Sandrine's eyes widened and judging from Robert's reaction, her shock was obvious.

"It's ancient history, Sandi. Anna and I got to know each other again. We put the past behind us. We became very good friends and eventually we fell in love again and remarried. We were convinced that nothing could stop us from spending the rest of our lives together."

Sandrine frowned. "But something did."

"_Someone_ did. Cesar Faison."

"He still wanted her?"

"She'd become an obsession for him. First he started sending her flowers. Orchids, always orchids. They were his trademark. He crashed our wedding by sneaking into Anna's dressing room. He stalked us on our honeymoon and later started playing mind games, leading us to distrust one another. Always, no matter how happy we were, or could have been, Cesar Faison was lurking nearby."

"So you had to do something…"

Although they were walking slowly, they'd reached the end of the pier now and a vast expanse of dark blue water surrounded them on both sides. Robert was about to turn around and head back, but Sandrine stopped him. "Let's sit down here…there's not a soul around."

Robert agreed, sitting down on the wooden strips. A cool lakeside breeze blew here and Sandrine spotted a pelican in the distance, swooping down onto the water to catch a fish.

"Yeah…we had to do something. And we did."

"What?"

"Anna and I decided to start playing into his hands. To make him believe his mind games were working and that she was open to the idea of some sort of relationship with him."

"You tried to beat him at his own game."

"Yeah. Except Anna played it too well."

Sandrine was slowly beginning to understand. "So the WSB thought she was a double agent again, spying for the DVX and Faison. That's why they issued the Black Box order."

Robert nodded. "Yes. And then Faison kidnapped her."

Sandrine found it hard to believe everything he was telling her. It sounded surreal, like something from a novel. "The WSB didn't believe it, did they?" Sandrine concluded. "They thought she went to him willingly."

Robert smiled, "I taught you too well."

Sandrine stared into the water ahead of her. "Did _you_ ever doubt her? Did you ever think that she did?"

"Had it happened years earlier I might have doubted her, but by then I knew Anna so well, I would have staked my life on her word. Anna was a lot of things," he chuckled. "Even a jewel fence at one point. But she would never have left what we had for Cesar Faison. We loved each other too much."

"So you went to search for her," Sandrine continued for him. She wondered if he caught the hint of envy in her voice. How must it have felt to have such a connection to Robert? To the man _she _now loved?

"Yes, I went to search for her after the WSB issued the Black Box order."

"You had to find her, before they did." It was an incredible story. Sandrine thought she knew him so well. How wrong she was.

"I did. I found her aboard an abandoned tanker in Venezuela, together with Faison. I was about to shoot him, when the entire ship exploded."

Sandrine's eyes widened. "So that's when you almost lost your life?"

Robert nodded, "Both Anna and I."

"Why? Why did the ship explode? Did Faison want to kill all three of you rather than lose her to you?"

Robert frowned. "I don't think Faison set the explosion."

Sandrine narrowed her brows. "Then who?"

"I think it was Anna."

"_Anna_?"

"Explosives were her specialty. The setting and diffusion of incendiary devices was her area of expertise. Even as I look back on it, I can see it as her handiwork. It was a clean, precise explosion, timed to perfection."

Sandrine didn't understand. "How do you know it was perfectly timed?"

"Because when I got on the boat and saw Anna, she looked at me and she was terrified. Not for her, but for me. She _knew_ what was coming but she had no idea I'd be there when it did."

"Why? Why would she blow up the ship while she was still on it?"

Robert shrugged his shoulders, and had Sandrine not known him as well as she did she might not have noticed the sudden sadness in his eyes. "I don't know why. I don't think I'll ever know."

"So, after the explosion you almost die and you choose to remain dead? I don't get it, Robert. _Why?"_

"Cesar Faison came to see me afterwards, in a hospital in Venezuela. He must have gotten to me before anyone else did, because he made sure I was chained to the bed. He offered me a deal that day."

"A deal?"

"He promised to stay away from Anna and my daughter, as long as I would."

Sandrine gave him a puzzled look. "You accepted? It's blackmail! After everything he did how could you trust him to keep his word?"

"He threatened to kill me if I didn't agree…" Robert chuckled. "The deal seemed like a reasonable alternative at the time."

"But it's insane!" Sandrine shook her head, sending her long braids flying over her shoulders. "Once you recovered you could have contacted Anna…the two of you could have fought Faison together. How in the world could you make a deal like that? How could you make your wife and daughter think you died?"

"I think," Robert paused, watching the waves in the distance. "I think Faison somehow knew that Anna set the explosion and it changed his mind about her. She scarred him for life. Because of that, I convinced myself that he would keep his word."

Sandrine scowled, uncomprehending. "Still…I don't understand, Robert. How could you not tell Anna the truth? All these years your daughter grew up without you…because you were scared to try and fight for them? If you did that to me, I would hate you."

Robert acknowledged her anger, nodding. "I don't ask you to understand…some days I'm not sure _I_ understand. All I can tell you is that Faison cast a shadow over my family for a long, long time. You don't know what's it like to have a mad man always lurking in the shadows, always threatening to take away the people you love the most. In the end, the only way I could see a future for Anna and for my daughter was to put him out of the picture."

"Except he took _you _out of the picture too. Couldn't you have killed him?"

"He threatened to kill Anna and Robin, my daughter, should he die of a suspicious death."

"More blackmail…"

Robert said nothing.

"How can you live without ever seeing your wife and daughter?" Sandrine demanded.

"I know they're safe. They're free from Faison's grasp. Most days that's enough."

"How do you know that he's keeping his part of the bargain?"

"The WSB keeps periodic tabs on both of them. If he breaks the deal, I kill him. Faison knows that and the WSB will sanction it."

"But what about the Black Box order? The WSB no longer wanted Anna dead?"

"Not after I convinced them she tried to kill Faison, at the risk of her own life."

Sandrine shook her head in disbelief. "Don't you sometimes wish that Faison would break the deal?"

"No…" Robert's answer came quickly. "I don't ever want him to come near them again. I want them to be free of him. Free of fear."

"How noble," Sandrine mumbled. It was madness, but at the same time it was a very Robert thing to do.

"Hardly," Robert lips moved into a smile. "When you have a child and a husband, you'll see there's not much you won't do for them."

"But there's more, isn't there? More to your story..." Sandrine prodded. There was something else he hadn't told her. If the WSB knew about Robert's past and his pact with Faison, why would they think he was betraying them?

Robert eyed her. "Would you trust the WSB with the life of the people you loved?"

Sandrine smirked. "Probably not."

"Good answer."

"So someone else is making sure that Faison keeps his part of the bargain."

"Someone within Faison's organization," Robert added.

Sandrine was slowly starting to understand. "You're _paying_ someone to keep you up to date on Faison's activities."

Robert nodded, "I had to…if Faison does decide to break the deal, by the time the WSB catches wind of it, it'll be too late. I want to know _before_ they do."

"But paying an informant costs a lot of money. Money that you don't have." Everything was starting to make sense now. Sandrine's face darkened. "Every time we stage a raid that captures illegal diamonds, you keep some for yourself, don't you? You're almost always the commanding officer. It wouldn't be hard to do. All you have to do is file some false paperwork and, voila, you have money you need and no one ever knows where it came from."

"There's no better currency than diamonds, Sandrine."

It was an outright admission of grand theft. Sandrine knew it was her duty to report back to the WSB. She also knew she'd be assured a lofty promotion in return for Robert's arrest and decommission.

Yet she knew she wouldn't.

"Can you trust your informant?" she asked him softly.

"I trust his greed and that he's gotten used to what he's been getting from me."

"What _is_ he getting from you?"

"Three million dollars in diamonds, every six months."

Sandrine gasped. It was so much. Everything they worked for was to prevent the bleeding of her continent's riches into the wrong hands. Yet Robert was doing just that; using Africa's wealth for his own purposes. A part of her hated what he was doing, and yet, at the same time she understood it.

"You're risking a lot by telling me this," she said softly.

"I trust you."

The sun was setting in the horizon now, a fat, yellow orb sinking into the welcoming waters of Lake Victoria. Playful ribbons of pink surrounded it creating a tri-colour image of gold, red and blue.

"Do you have a picture of them?" Sandrine asked.

Robert nodded, seeing another couple stroll down the pier. He smiled when he saw them holding hands and staring into the horizon. Sunset was the perfect time for lovers; no matter where you were in the world.

He reached deep into the inside pocket of his shirt and pulled out a piece of paper. It was neatly folded and when he opened it, it revealed a tiny, black and white photo of Anna and Robin. Anna's arms were wrapped around her daughter. "They're smiling for the cameraman," he whispered. "For_ me_. Robin had just turned twelve when I took this."

He handed it to Sandrine, who cupped it in her palm.

She looked at it and couldn't help a smile. Both mother and daughter were beautiful. Sandrine thought she might feel jealously or even anger towards this woman, who had captured Robert's heart, and then broke it, long before she knew of his existence. But, surprisingly, she felt neither, only a deep sadness for all the things Robert had to keep hidden.

"Will you keep my secret?"

Sandrine gazed into the horizon, and gave the picture back to him. She leaned against him, wishing then that she didn't love him as much as she did.

They sat in the silence, the only sound they heard was water lapping against the pier.

"Sandrine?"

"Thank you," she said, closing her eyes. "Thank you for telling me the truth. "

_Andrassy Estate, Vadsel, Hungary_

Dimitri saw Marina walking down the corridor with a silver tea set.

"Is something wrong?" she asked Dimitri, noticing the boy for the first time. "I saw Alexandra running down the hallway crying."

Dimitri put his hand on Andrei's shoulder. "Marina...I want you to meet Andrei. He's going to be living with us at Vadsel. He's going to be...our son."

Marina smiled at the boy with the crooked teeth and thick, curly, brown hair. "Hi, Andrei," she said, thinking she could perhaps now understand why Alexandra Marick was upset. "Welcome to Vadsel."

"Would you mind having a cup of tea with Andrei, while I find my wife?"

"Not at all, Mr. Marick." She kept smiling at the boy who looked at her skeptically.

"Thank you."

Dimitri didn't have to think hard to figure out where Alex might have gone. He ran from the main house towards the stables.

He saw Jozsef outside, throwing a baleful of hay into one of the stalls.

"Have you seen my wife?" Dimitri asked him, squinting in the late fall sunlight.

Jozsef stopped what he was doing. "She took Tempus Fugit out for a ride. You just missed her."

Dimitri frowned. "I wish she wouldn't do that," he mumbled under his breath. "Ride when she's upset."

"She took off in the direction of Kincsem Castle," Jozsef added, in anticipation of Dimitri's next question.

"Could you saddle Maritsa for me?"

"Of course."

Maritsa was one of Dimitri's favourite riding horses. A graceful, cinnamon-coloured mare that had won more than her share of races when she was in her prime. "I'll get her for you."

"Thank you."

Dimitri stared out into the hilly landscape, dotted with oak, birch and maple trees. It was a beautiful sight. The trees were changing colours and the hillsides were covered in bright oranges and yellows. Its splendour was lost on Dimitri. The only image he saw was the one of Alex being thrown from Tempus's back. It reminded him of her fall a few weeks ago and it made him anxious. 'Of all the horses to ride, when you're upset…geez, Alex. Talk about proving a point.'

"Here you go, sir." Jozsef came back clasping Maritsa's reins in his hands.

"Thanks, Jozsef." He met the horse's eyes, stroking her neck twice before jumping into her saddle with ease. He tightened the reins and galloped off into the countryside, leaving Jozsef behind in a small cloud of dust.

Dimitri rode for several minutes before he caught sight of Alex in the distance. He pushed his horse, holding on tighter as it ran faster to catch up to Tempus Fugit.

He was less than a hundred feet from Tempus, when Dimitri saw that Alex spotted him. Annoyed, she picked up speed and flew into the horizon, quickly distancing herself from him again.

'Great,' he mumbled. 'I guess that's your way of telling me you're not ready to discuss this yet.'

Dimitri lunged down towards his horse's neck, instinctively raising the rest of his body as he pushed his horse to catch up to Alex. Still, the animal struggled to compete with Tempus's speed.

Racing towards her, Dimitri couldn't help a smile, as he watched her ride. There was no denying that Tempus Fugit was in a class of his own. A striking combination of power, beauty and speed that would have impressed even the most casual observer. And Alex rode him with such fearless ease that it eased his trepidation and heightened his admiration all at once.

"Alex! Slow Down! _Please!"_ he yelled out to her, fearing that his horse couldn't keep up any longer.

Whether she heard him or not Dimitri couldn't tell. If she did, his plea fell on deaf ears. Alex pushed Tempus to keep going.

It was another several minutes before he saw her slow down and dismount the horse in the distance.

Dimitri breathed a sigh of relief, knowing if she'd chosen to go on, he would have had to concede defeat. Maritsa was exhausted.

He slowed his horse down, leading her next to Alex and Tempus, as he dismounted her.

"I know you're angry with me," Dimitri started, catching his breath. "That doesn't mean you have to go out and kill yourself on that insanely fast horse."

Alex glared at him. "Don't patronize me. We both know I'm the better rider."

Dimitri bit his tongue. Right now might have been a good time to concede that maybe she was. "Alex…I'm sorry. What I did it was crazy…I know… But I can't do anything if you won't even let me explain."

Alex sat down on the grass, as breathless as he was. "What's there to discuss? You adopted this boy. It's too late for explanations now."

Dimitri sat down across from her, watching the horses from the corner of his eye. Neither of them would run off. They had too much respect for their riders, and were both exhausted after the unexpected race through the countryside.

"You know, for most women, this would be ample grounds for divorce," she announced angrily.

Dimitri managed a rueful smile. "In that case, I'm glad you're not most women."

"What in the world got into you?"

Dimitri loosened the top buttons on his shirt. "I don't know…I just saw this kid at the orphanage, who looked at me knowing that no one would ever choose him. No one would ever love him. How can a fifteen-year-old kid know that with absolute certainty, Alex? Tell me, what kind of world do we live in where a fifteen year old orphan's considered a lost cause?"

"So you wanted to prove him wrong?"

"Yes…I wanted to prove him wrong."

"And now what? Are we even qualified to raise a child like Andrei? He's spent his whole life in that hellhole of an orphanage. God knows what kind of psychological ramifications that would leave on a child. I'm a neurologist, not a psychologist!"

"He hasn't been there his whole life. His mother gave him up when he was eight and remarried. Andrei remembers what it's like to have a family."

Alex sighed and Dimitri saw that she was close to tears again.

He reached over for her hand. "Sweetheart…I love you. You know that, if this doesn't work out I'll find a way…"

"To what? _Fix it?_ You can't return him like a piece of clothing to the department store!"

"Maybe I can find another family for him. Look, I don't know. But there has to be something…I won't lose you over this."

"What about the other child? The one we were _going_ to adopt? We just leave him?"

"We can't deal with that orphanage again. They weren't straight with us about a single thing."

Alex ran the fingers of both her hands through her hair, meeting Dimitri's glance. "I don't know what to say…I'm so angry with you…and I have no clue how to raise a troubled teenager."

Dimitri inched towards her, kneeling in the grass. He covered her hands with his own before running them through her tangled hair, grateful that she didn't push them away this time. He kissed her face with a tenderness he couldn't imagine ever feeling for anyone else.

"I'm sorry."

"You have a huge heart, Dimitri," Alex told him. "And you're maddeningly impulsive. I love you for that, but _this_, this is…"

"I wish I could tell you I knew how to raise a teenager but I can't. All I know is that there's no one else I'd rather raise a child with than you." Dimitri paused, staring up into the clouds. "I have an adult son, Anton, whom I barely know. I call him on holidays and to wish him a happy birthday and each time I do, I feel like he's talking to me only because he feels like he should. I can practically hear the relief in his voice when I hang up the phone. I can't call myself a father, Alex. Maybe it's why I wanted us to raise a young child, an infant. To start from the beginning…and make it right."

"But then you saw Andrei…"

Dimitri nodded. "Then I saw Andrei. The way he looked at me, as though he could read my thoughts, daring me to prove him wrong. That he isn't a lost case. That it's possible to love him. Maybe in wanting to adopt a baby, I was being selfish…maybe some higher power out there thinks I need a bigger challenge."

Alex chuckled, as she brushed away a tear. Slowly, Dimitri saw her anger evaporate and he loved her for it. "What about me? Frankly, I think you're all the challenge I can handle."

"If you need some time to let this sink in. Maybe get away for a while, spend some time in Paris with Anna, or London with your old friends…it's alright, I understand."

Alex sank down onto the grass, onto her back. "That would make a good impression on Andrei, wouldn't it? If I ran off for a few weeks right after he arrives."

Dimitri laid down next to her, propping himself up his elbow. "Will you give it a try?"

"He deserves at least that much, doesn't he?"

He ran a finger along her hairline, closing his eyes in the warmth of the late afternoon sun. It had been an exhausting three days and he could feel the fatigue catching up to him now.

And it was only the beginning.

Alex's hand reached up to touch his lips. "Crazy man."

"I love you."

"I know."

He lowered himself to kiss her. "I don't think you could possibly know how much."

Alex smirked. "I hope he likes Mickey Mouse… I suppose we should return the crib and the change table."

Dimitri laughed. "No...let's keep them. In case we need them for future use."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

_Andrassy Estate, Vadsel, Hungary _

_Two weeks later_

_-_

_Charlotte Devane made her hit the target. Once and then again. Frowning. Annoyed by her daughter's inability to hit its centre. _

"_You're useless," her mother spat. "You can mend the broken legs of a bloody field mouse but you can't hit the core of a target if your life depended on it!" _

_Alex sighed, wishing she didn't have to do this. Wishing the gun wasn't in her hand. Her head hurt from the concentration and she wanted nothing more than to leave the room. _

"_Again," Charlotte demanded. _

"_Later, please," Alex pleaded. _

"_Now!" _

_Alex stared at the target in front of her, except this time it wasn't a paper cut-out. It was her father. _

"_No," she shook her head in panic. How could she hurt the one man she loved? _

"_Shoot!"_

"_No!" _

"Alex," she heard another voice in the distance. "Alex, it's okay..darling. It's just a dream."

Alex pushed herself up on her elbow to see Dimitri looking at her with a pair of sleepy, concerned eyes.

Another nightmare.

Alex frowned and moved to sit at the rim of the bed. She noticed her hands were shaking and her head was pounding.

Dimitri reached over to touch her arm. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Alex nodded, running a hand through her hair. "I'm okay…I just need some air."

She debated opening the window, but instead she got up, and pulled out a pair of jeans and a thick, wool sweater from the closet. Dimitri yawned, as he turned on the light to check the time. "Darling, it's four am…where are you going?"

"I need to go outside, to clear my head."

"I'll come with you…"

Alex shook her head. "No…stay here. One of us should get some sleep."

Dimitri sank back into the pillow.

They were supposed to fly to Ascot tomorrow night for a race and back to Vadsel the next day, for a huge family dinner that would officially welcome Andrei into the world of the Andrassys. "I _could _use some sleep. Not that I'll get any if I wonder where you are."

She smiled. "Try."

"Don't go for too long," he mumbled. "Or I'll send out a search party..."

"Don't worry," she whispered, seeing him close his eyes again. The grounds of Vadsel were probably the safest place in the world to go for an early morning walk.

She felt guilty for waking him so often. For pulling him into the crazy world of her nightmares. Into the world of Charlotte Devane.

'One more thing to hate you for, Mother,' she thought bitterly, closing the bedroom door behind her.

Alex walked down the old corridor, along its plush, Persian carpet, beneath the watchful eyes of the oil portraits that hung on the panelled walls. Portraits of countless Andrassys dating back centuries.

She headed toward Andrei's room, wanting to peak inside to see if he was asleep. Alex opened the door as quietly as its heavy, wooden frame allowed, unable to make out his figure on the bed inside. She took a couple of steps into the room and saw that the blanket was tossed aside and that the bed was empty.

'Damn it,' she cursed in the darkness. He'd already tried to run away once, two days ago. It was a half-hearted attempt Alex thought, in hindsight, more of a challenge to see how far he could get than a genuine desire to flee. Or at least, that's what she told herself. He had taken Dimitri's favourite horse, Maritsa, and ridden her to the nearest village, where the local police had found him wandering the streets with the horse the next day, and promptly delivered him back to Vadsel.

To say the last two weeks had been a supreme test of her patience would have been an understatement.

At Dimitri's insistence they enrolled Andrei at the same private school that had educated generations of Andrassys, only to have him suspended on the fourth day for stealing his teacher's diamond bracelet.

Alex had then spent only minutes speaking to the teacher, before making the decision of taking him out of the school and putting him into a nearby public school. That decision caused another major argument with Dimitri, who wasn't entirely convinced that Andrei should be the first Marick in history to attend public school.

"_How can you just pull him out of that school without so much as discussing it with me?"_

_She'd given him a sly smile. "I don't know? The same way you adopted him without asking me?" _

"_Funny." _

"_His teacher is a horrible, arrogant woman, who looks at him with so much disdain, it's no wonder he doesn't respect her. I wouldn't either." _

"_He stole her diamond bracelet! Can you blame her?"_

"_Andrei's been plucked from the only home he's known for the last seven years, where no matter what else was lacking, at least he had the respect of his fellow orphans." _

_Dimitri had sighed. "Respect? He led a bunch of delinquents into doing all kinds of mischief!" _

_She'd ignored his admonition. "And, now…now he's in a school with eleven and twelve year olds, because he needs to catch up. He's confused and angry and he needs a teacher who understands that, not a teacher who looks at him like he's a lost cause. He's fifteen, Dimitri! He's almost an adult. He's frustrated." _

'Frustrating indeed,' Alex thought, staring into the empty room. 'Where in the world could you have gone in the middle of the night?'

She left the room and ran down the grand staircase of the estate, towards the front door. She'd try and find him herself before waking Dimitri again. She pulled a jacket and flashlight out of the closet near the entrance and made her way outside, heading towards the stables.

After so many years of living in the noisy heart of London, the complete darkness and utter silence of nights in the countryside still awed her. Tonight was a crystal clear night. Thousands of stars swirled in the sky above her and the moon shone bright enough for her to see the outline of the stables in the distance.

The air was getting colder, its Fall crispness more reminiscent of winter than summer now.

"Andrei!" she called out, entering the stables.

To both their surprise, Dimitri and Alex discovered that Andrei loved horses as much as they did and that he was a surprisingly capable rider. His family were Roma horse traders and he rode often before being brought to the orphanage.

"Andrei!" she repeated, hearing the sound of horses shuffling their legs in the pens as she walked along the stalls. It was cool in the stables and drafts of wind wafted through cracks in the wooden structure. Alex was about to call his name a third time, when she spotted him lying asleep in a corner, atop a small mound of hay.

She squatted next to him, nudging him gently. "Andrei…"

He woke up with a jump, panicking and muttering something in Romanian.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

He said nothing at first, staring at her in the darkness, his breathing rapid and shallow, matching the fear in his eyes. "Not you…you don't scare me," he corrected her, as if wanting to make sure she knew that anyone as unthreatening as her wasn't about to frighten him. "I have a dream, that's why."

Alex sat down next to him. "Bad dream? It's okay…I know, they're miserable aren't they?'

Andrei said nothing, shivering in the cold.

"What are you doing here anyway? You don't have to sleep in the stables you know." She chuckled. "If you really hate the Mickey Mouse wallpaper we can take it down."

Her words elicited a smile from Andrei. "Is okay. Mickey Mouse is okay."

This time it was Alex who said nothing.

"Why _you _are here?" he asked her.

She shrugged, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing that she was worried about his whereabouts. He'd been too much of a troublemaker for that these past two weeks. "Same reason as you maybe. Bad dream."

His grey eyes widened in the darkness, shining next to the light of the flashlights. "What do _you_ dream?"

"About my mother."

"Do you love your mother?" he asked, out of nowhere. "You look sad."

The question jarred her. Alex shook her head. "No." For the first time since meeting him, she felt a genuine bond with the boy.

Andrei eyed her. "I believe you," he told her. "I know when people lie." He paused, adding, "Me too. My mother, she doesn't love me, and I don't love her."

"Fair enough." Alex ran her fingers through his wavy hair. The more she got to know him the more she was starting to appreciate his honesty. "So you want to tell me what you're doing here?"

"I want to ride the horse in the morning."

"You have school in the morning," she reminded him.

"I hate school. I'm not a child."

Alex sighed. She could have sworn she had this argument with him less than twenty-four hours ago. "I know you're not a child…but you have to finish school and you're behind as it is. It's important."

"I hate it."

"I'll make you a deal. You go to school for the next week and behave yourself and, as soon as the sun comes up, we'll ride any horse you want?"

Andrei squinted, trying to read her eyes. "Any horse?"

"Any horse."

"The black one…in the end stall."

Alex smiled. Tempus Fugit. Of course. What other horse would one demand given the chance to ride any?

"Alright. We can ride him."

Andrei laughed. "You are lying. Nobody can ride him. He is wild."

Alex raised her eyebrows in amusement. "How do you know that?"

"I try." He held pulled back the sleeve of his sweater to show her a large, ugly bruise, still red and sore.

Alex grimaced. "Oh Andrei, why didn't you tell me? I would have fixed that up for you."

"See I try. And me, I can ride every horse," he boasted.

"I told you not to take the horses out without asking. You could have hurt yourself…" She gave him a mildly angry look. "Or worse, you could have hurt the horses."

"Nobody can ride _that_ horse."

"We'll ride him when the sun comes up," Alex repeated.

"You are lying," Andrei insisted. "Nobody can ride him. I never see Dimitri or Jozsef take him out. Maybe my mother she could ride him. She is the best rider I know. But maybe not her either."

"Trust me," she said, seeing the doubt in his eyes. "He's my horse. He hasn't had any other riders since I broke him. He's like you. Stubborn. But maybe it's about time he got used to someone else riding him."

"I don't believe you."

Alex yawned, glancing at her watch; "You can believe me in a couple of hours." She stood up and held out her arm to him. "Let's go back to the house until then. It's freezing in here."

Andrei shook his head. "No. I want to stay here."

Alex sighed. "Fine. I'll get some blankets from the tack room and stay with you then. That way we'll both smell like horse tomorrow. " She paused. "If you don't mind, that is."

He stared at her, unsure what to say. "It's okay," he decided.

She came back with two wool blankets and threw one at him. "Get some sleep before sunrise or else you'll fall asleep in your class."

She turned off the flashlight, before lying down on the hay-covered ground next to him.

Andrei eyed her in the darkness, thinking her presence would annoy him, but somehow it didn't. She didn't treat him like the women at the orphange and he liked that.

He kept staring at her in the shadows, waiting until she fell asleep before closing his own eyes, trying to remember if his mother had ever done that; had ever fallen asleep next to him.

He felt a bitter tear well up in his eyes when he realized she never did. And never would.

_Paris, France_

"Tell me something," Faison asked Jan. "Why are you so eager to move to Brussels?"

Jan pressed his lips into a thin line. "Getting you away from Anna Devane would be good for your powers of concentration and good for business, that's why. I can't understand why you insist on staying in Paris. She is off-limits. I certainly thought the baby would make her even less appealing to you."

Faison snickered. "If I didn't know you so well, I would say that you have a personal motive for wanting to leave Paris so desperately."

Jan frowned. They were sitting at the corner table in a small restaurant called _Les Deux Renards_. The Two Foxes. 'How apropos,' he thought holding a glass of white Bordeaux next to his lips and taking a silent sip.

They were awaiting a buyer for a high-tech gadget that Faison had obtained illegally from one of his CIA sources. Jan wasn't sure what it was, some sort of tracking device that a member of the Russian mafia was apparently willing to pay big dollars for.

Gadgets and high-tech toys were Faison's passion; they didn't interest Jan at all. How could one compare an object made of micro fibres, wires and computer chips, to the grandeur of an oil painting or to the beauty of a perfect diamond?

"The baby changes nothing," Faison pointed out, bringing him back to the topic at hand. "Why would it?"

"The baby means there is another man in the picture," he replied. "Not that getting close to her is an option anyway."

"I know about Dr. David Hayward. He doesn't change anything either." Faison observed the tuxedo clad waiter as he set down their appetizers. Warm terrine of foie gras and quail, perched atop a paper-thin slice of French baguette. He nodded approvingly and paused until the waiter left before resuming his conversation.

"Shouldn't we wait until Ivan…?" Jan started.

Faison scowled and picked up his silver cutlery. "He's late. If he's remotely interested in what I have to offer he should be glad we had the courtesy not to leave, never mind waiting for him to dine with us." He took a bite of the terrine, obviously enjoying its pungent flavour. "As for Anna, tell me Jan what do you think is her one weakness? The one thing that could make her realize that I mean that much more to her than she could ever imagine?"

Jan shrugged his shoulders, hating that the conversation was taking this turn again. "I don't know. What?"

"Think."

"Her daughter. It's the only thing she has left, isn't it? Her daughter and the child she's expecting."

Faison nodded, continuing. "Robin is ill. You know that, don't you?"

"She is HIV positive. That I know."

Faison used a white cotton napkin to wipe a smidgeon of quail from his lips. "There is a chance that Robin's HIV may one day become full blown AIDS and she could subsequently die of the disease."

"I don't understand; what does all this have to do with you and Anna?"

"I spend hundreds of thousands of dollars every year on AIDS research. There's a laboratory in Marseilles that's funded almost single-handedly by me."

Jan nodded. Of course he knew that. He was, after all, Faison's primary accountant. But until just now he had never made the obvious connection between the research and Robin Scorpio. He'd always assumed that the research funding was no more than a tool for tax evasion. A way of laundering and legitimizing questionable funds. But now it all made so much more sense.

Jan's jaw dropped. "You want to cure AIDS to impress Anna?"

Faison laughed. "You make it sound so absurd. So far-fetched."

"It _is_ absurd."

"Just think, Jan, if one of the scientists in my lab were to be the one to make the principal discovery leading to a cure for AIDS? Can you imagine the gratitude with which Anna would embrace me? If I were to _save her daughter_?"

"Of course she'd be grateful," Jan admitted. "Who wouldn't?"

Faison finished the final bite of his terrine and set down his knife and fork on the plate, indicating he wanted it removed from his sight. Immediately. The waiter caught the signal and plucked the plate from the table in one seamless movement.

"Not just gratitude, Jan. It would be the one thing in the world that would make her see me in a different light. If I could save her child."

Jan nodded, taking a bite of his appetizer. Thick, white asparagus tips drenched in a cream-coloured béarnaise sauce. "Except curing AIDS is no small feat," he mumbled with his mouth half full.

Faison propped his elbows up on the table and pressed the palms of his hands together. "You're right. But with the birth of a second child I have, in essence… a second chance."

Jan chortled, thinking surely his boss was joking. "Except there's a small problem. What if Anna gives birth to a perfectly healthy child?"

Faison frowned. "We'll see about that," he mumbled, as he saw his Russian client enter the restaurant. "We'll see."

_Paris, France_

"_C'est parfait_," Anna told the landlord with the swirling moustache, knowing already that she would take the apartment. It wasn't really. Perfect, that is. But it was close enough.

"_Pas encore,_" the man said, smiling at her. "But it will be when you are living here."

Anna's eyes lit up in a matching smile. No one could flirt as well as the French. It was an ability they were born with. After a month of living in Paris, Anna was absolutely certain of it. Even now, almost six months into her pregnancy, she could lose track of the constant flattery she received. The French adored children and revered mothers in such an unapologetic fashion, at times it made her feel almost buoyant, in spite of her growing waistline.

"I have another couple that is interested in the apartment," he told her, trying out his English. "But if you like, it is yours."

"Thank you," Anna acknowledged, her eyes scanning it once more. "I do like it." It was small by North American standards but it had two little bedrooms and a separate dining and living area that spread out from the kitchen. It was palatial compared to her daughter's apartment.

The kitchen was the most beautiful of the rooms. It sported a marble counter top and a huge window facing a giant oak tree. The window lit up the room. Bright rays of sunshine poured through it.

'It's so charming...' Anna thought, with a smile. 'That I might have to learn to cook.'

"I will bring you the lease to sign," the landlord told her.

Anna nodded. "Please."

He scurried off and her eyes wandered to the hardwood floors leading to the bedrooms. She put a subconscious hand on her belly. The one on the right would be the baby's room. There were pencil marks on the wall, where the previous occupants had measured a child's height.

Anna ran her fingers over the highest measurement. _Septembre, 2002, 113 centimetres_.

"We'll do the same, baby," she thought aloud. "Except we'll use inches."

She wondered how long they'd stay here. The lease was for one year. She would stay at least that long. She'd bear the boredom of her office job for one year, she told herself. To be here, in Paris with Robin, to raise her new child.

"And then, who knows?" Maybe she'd stay in Paris longer. Or maybe she'd go back to Port Charles or transfer to London with Scotland Yard. 'Or Pine Valley even…'

She thought of David, as she did every day, wondering what he was doing. _How_ he was doing.

It had been a while now since she last called Jackson Montgomery, and she still hadn't made any progress in solidifying the charges against David. Jackson had mentioned something about David having gone to work at Seaview hospital.

'Do you miss me nearly as much as I miss you?' she thought absentmindedly. _Have you met someone else?_ His last phone call to Robin's apartment had been weeks ago. Every day she wanted to pick up the phone and call him. And every day, she somehow found the willpower not to. In spite of everything, in spite of the hurt, the pride, the anger, in spite of all that; she missed him.

"You do have a right to know your father," she whispered to her unborn child. "No matter how I feel about David." It was a bridge she would have to cross at some point.

"_Voici_, _Madame_."

Anna saw the landlord approach her with a sheet of paper. The lease.

She pulled out a ballpoint pen from her purse and signed it. "_Merci_."

"_C'est un plaisir, Madame Devane_."

Anna took a final look at the apartment and contentedly handed the lease back to the landlord. She'd made the right decision. Aside from being close to the Metro, and in a clean, quiet neighbourhood, the apartment had one other selling point that outweighed all that: it was a short walk from Robin's place.

It meant she could finally give her daughter some much needed breathing room, while still being close enough to keep an eye on her.

'Maybe I expected too much,' she thought, suddenly. She'd come to Paris hoping to reconnect with the same girl she remembered raising, except that Robin wasn't that girl anymore.

Robin was an adult now. A stranger. She was HIV positive and in spite of all her efforts to not show it, she was angry at her mother. Angry and disappointed.

'I don't blame you,' Anna thought. 'I wasn't there for you for such a long time. You have a right to be angry. If only you'd let it out…I'd rather you yell at me and tell me how you feel instead of keeping it bottled up inside you, thinking I don't notice.' Almost two weeks had passed since her daughter's unexpected outburst at the restaurant, yet nothing had changed. They'd both gone back exchanging neutral pleasantries during the short times they saw each other.

'You're so stubborn and stoic, sweetheart,' Anna thought, biting her lip._ That_ part of her daughter definitely came from her father. But just as Anna had always somehow found a means around Robert's bullheadedness, she'd find a way to break through her daughter's too. However long it took.

In hindsight, it was probably for the best that she was moving out of her daughter's apartment. She needed to put some distance between them. To give Robin a chance to relax from the constant pretense. Living together the way they did was stressful for both of them and Anna wasn't sure how much longer she could keep it up either.

Compounding that tension were Robin's Fall exams. One more week and they would be over as well.

'Thank god,' Anna thought, after she said goodbye to the landlord and left the building that would be her future home. Burning the midnight oil had left Robin exhausted, even though she didn't think Anna noticed that either.

'When did my baby become so driven?' she asked herself as she headed down the street towards Robin's apartment. Becoming a doctor meant the world to her. No matter how much Anna pleaded for her to take it easy, her pleas fell on deaf ears.

She arrived back at Robin's apartment in less than twenty minutes.

"Hey, sweetie," she announced when she opened the door to her apartment. "I have good news. I signed the lease…" Anna saw Robin stumbling out of the bathroom, a hand resting on her stomach.

"Robin? Are you okay?"

Anna suddenly noticed her daughter's pallor. Not only was ghostly white but her skin had a slightly gray tint that alarmed Anna.

"Robin?" Anna ran towards her.

"Mom…"

It was the last word her daughter said before her eyes rolled back and her knees buckled underneath her.

Anna tried to catch her.

But she was too late.

_Andrassy Estate, Vadsel, Hungary_

Andrei watched as Alex saddled and bridled the horse, impressed that the animal didn't fight her.

Then she mounted the horse with ease, holding out her hand to Andrei. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

Andrei grinned and let her pull him up into the saddle, behind her. Unlike the day before when he attempted to ride him, Tempus Fugit was accommodating this time, making no moves to toss him from his back. The grin was stuck on his face. He couldn't believe he was about to ride this horse; the most incredible horse he'd ever seen. Yesterday, Andrei didn't think riding him was possible and today he was doing it.

Alex turned around. "Ready?"

Andrei wrapped his arms around her waist and nodded. "Yes."

The horse thundered out of the stables, as though he'd been waiting for just that. The chance to run free. To show off.

Andrei's smile was still plastered on his face as Alex guided Tempus along a barely noticeable riverside trail. Whenever the terrain flattened out, she pushed the horse to run faster, a command that Tempus enjoyed rather than just obeyed.

Andrei held onto to Alex tightly, losing track of time as he immersing himself in the ride. After they left the riverbank, they rode along the edge of a forest, at times so close to the branches above them that Andrei had to duck to avoid hitting them. Endless swirls of red, yellow and orange leaves danced in front of his eyes, blending into a dizzying array of colours.

To say Alex was an exceptional rider would have been an understatement.

Andrei could still remember riding with his mother when he was very young. Back then he'd been convinced that no one rode better than her. His mother had been the most beautiful woman he'd ever known. And no one could ride a horse like she could. Andrei could almost understand then why she gave him up. He told himself it wasn't just because her new husband didn't want to raise another man's son and his mother wouldn't protest, it was because she was so _much_. And he, Andrei, was barely much of anything.

Andrei knew he wasn't good looking. He was also small for his age and, although he rode well, he knew he couldn't match his mother's skils. Even with the limited wisdom of an eight year old, he understood then that someone like her couldn't possibly want _him_. It hurt, but it made sense. He could accept it.

But now, riding this horse, with this woman who rode as well as his mother, _perhaps even better_, he wondered if maybe he'd been wrong to accept it.

He closed his eyes, feeling the horse's muscles exert themselves beneath him. Watching Alex guide Tempus through the landscape, made him trust her skills completely. Blindly. It was the most marvellous feeling to ride with his eyes closed, to sense every beat of Tempus' hoofs on the ground.

Andrei wondered why she did the things she did. Why she chose to sleep with him in the stables last night. Why she insisted on bandaging his bruised arm before they went riding this morning. Why she cared whether or not he went to school.

By all accounts Andrei should have been a nothing to Alex Marick. Like he was to his own flesh and blood mother. But lately he didn't feel like nothing anymore.

Alex slowed down the horse when they approached a pond. Andrei was certain they'd been going in a circle, and yet he knew if it were it up to him to find the way back to the estate, he wouldn't be able to do it.

Alex turned around, her long hair brushing his face. "Let's take a break," she said, slowing the horse further still, into a trot.

When he came to a standstill, Andrei slipped out of the saddle, holding out his arm for Alex, who dismounted after him.

"You ride very good," he told her.

Alex smiled. "Thanks."

"You ride better than my mother," he added. He wanted her to know that.

"He's amazing, isn't he?" she pointed out, observing Tempus Fugit lowering his head by the pond.

Andrei nodded in agreement. "You are the only person who can ride him?" he asked.

"I only just broke him," she explained. "He should be fine having others ride him soon, but he's still young. He's also temperamental and he doesn't take well to others telling him what to do. He probably threw you just to make that point. Not because you didn't ride him well. If it's any comfort to you, he's done the same to me too." She smiled. "We're going to send him off to England before the winter starts. There are some excellent race training grounds there. I want to find him a jockey and start training him to race."

Andrei made no efforts to hide his disappointment at the announcement.

"I can teach you to ride him until then," she offered, as though reading his mind.

Andrei's eyes darkened. "What if I hurt him?" He was disturbed at the thought of this animal having anyone but the most exceptional rider on his back. This horse was special; he knew it after their ride. Tempus would need a special rider to match him.

Alex laughed, running a finger along Andrei's now bandaged arm. "I don't think Tempus is the one we have to worry about."

"You think he will let me ride him?"

"Sure…I think he might."

Andrei watched the horse, unable to tear his eyes off him, as Alex sat down and leaned against a tree trunk.

"It's a beautiful morning, isn't it?" she mumbled.

Andrei nodded. It was more than beautiful. The sun was now high in the sky, compared to where it had been at the beginning of their ride. The Fall colours were indescribable and the air was the freshest, cleanest air he ever breathed. As if all that wasn't testament to his luck these days, he was standing next to the most incredible horse he had ever seen.

He wondered how long his luck would last. What would he eventually have to give in exchange for all that he was getting?

Andrei squatted down and ran his hand along the morning dew that covered the grass on the ground. Then he spotted another rider approach them from the distance. "Who's that?" he asked Alex.

Alex smiled. Even before she could make out the rider's features she knew who it was simply from the way he rode.

"Dimitri."

"How he knows where to find you?"

Alex shrugged. "Maybe Jozsef told him where he thinks we went?"

Alex stood up to meet him as he approached them.

Dimitri dismounted the horse in front of them. He acknowledged Andrei with a nod in his direction. "Hi, Andrei."

Alex smiled as Dimitri put his arms around her to kiss her. Andrei observed them with curiosity, as he often did. He'd never seen a man treat a woman the way Dimitri treated his wife. He wondered whether Dimitri just happened to be unusually good natured or whether it was because she was truly special.

Either way, he couldn't help but stare each time he saw them together. They fascinated him.

"What's wrong?" he heard Alex ask him and then he caught Dimitri's grim expression.

"I just got a call from Anna. It's about Robin."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

_Hotel Dieu Hospital, Paris, France_

It was almost one in the morning and the hospital hallway was quiet when Alexandra Marick entered it. She scanned the names on the doors, looking for that of Robin Scorpio.

When she found it on the third door, she quietly pushed it open.

Her first sight was that of Robin sleeping on a solitary bed, next to which her sister too, was asleep, in a chair.

Alex placed a hand on Anna's shoulder, causing her to jerk awake.

"It's okay, it's me," she whispered.

Anna opened her eyes and rubbed the sleep from them. Even after all this time, looking at her sister could still amaze her. It was like looking into a mirror.

She stood up to hug her. "Thanks…thanks for coming so quickly."

"You don't have to thank me, little sis." It was a term of endearment that always made Anna smile. When Alex first used it in the cabin in Northern Ontario it had taken her by surprise. Although Anna knew she was older by a few minutes, it often seemed it should have been the other way around. Maybe Alex felt the same way.

Her gaze went from her sister to her daughter. "She's so pale, Alex…" she pointed out. It was an observation that nearly brought on a fresh batch of tears.

"I just spoke to her doctor," Alex told her.

"_And_?" Anna demanded. She was relieved to finally have someone here whom she trusted, someone who could explain Robin's condition frankly and honestly. Using language that she'd understand.

Alex lowered her eyes. "I don't know what to tell you…when he mentioned how long she was unconscious, that worried me. But her vitals are good."

"I don't understand. One day she's fine and the next she just collapses. What does that mean? Is she getting sicker?"

Alex pulled a chair next to her sister, sat down and squeezed Anna's hand. "Robin's been taking antiretroviral drugs for several years now. What these drugs do is they decrease the RNA that contains the HIV virus, also known as the viral load, to almost undetectable levels while at the same time increasing the CD4 count…"

"Alex, in English please…"

"The drugs decrease the virus in her blood while increasing the CD4 count, that is, the cells that boost the immune system, also known as T-cells or T-lymphocytes."

"Are you saying the drugs aren't working anymore?"

Alex frowned. "Yes and no. From what Doctor Perraud told me her viral load has increased which _could_ indicate that."

The words hit Anna like a wall and she was imobile when she felt her sister's hand wiping away her tears.

"_But_," Alex said gently, bringing her back. "Her CD4 count _is_ good. It's almost that of a healthy person. It means she's fighting the increased viral load."

"That's good, right?"

Alex nodded. "It's very good."

"Then why did she collapse?"

"Dr. Perraud isn't sure yet."

"But what do _you_ think?" Anna pressed.

"This isn't my field, Anna."

"Just tell me what you think, that's all."

Alex observed her sister. "I think…I think it could be a lot of things. Once the viral load began to increase, her system could have been thrown for a loop, making her ill. It could also be outside factors. Her chart says she was dehydrated…"

"Dehydrated?" Anna's eyes were glued to her. "What are you saying?"

"She's in the middle of studying for exams. It's a stressful time for anyone, trust me, never mind for someone whose immune system is compromised."

Anna felt the tears well up again. "So you're saying it could be stress?"

"I'm saying it could be stress, _compounded _by all the other unhealthy habits med students have. Poor dietary habits, poor sleeping habits…all those things can affect the potency of the antiretroviral drugs."

"She made herself sick…and I didn't see it."

Alex groaned. "Don't do that...don't even think to blame yourself for this."

"You don't understand, Alex. We've been having some problems…"

Alex interrupted her. "I understand that you should go home and get some rest."

"No. I'm not leaving her."

"Have you had a look in the mirror? You're exhausted. When did you last eat something? Or sleep for that matter…" Alex glanced at her swollen belly, managing a smile. "You have more than one child you have to worry about now."

Anna looked at her sister and sighed. It was the truth and she knew it. Seeing Alex sitting next to her only made it glaringly obvious. Her sister looked great. She wore an off-white, two-piece suit that perfectly complemented her tanned skin. She loooked glowingly healthy. Meanwhile Anna's clothes were wrinkled and her eyes red and rimmed with dark circles.

Alex placed a tentative hand on her sister's stomach. "You know, I haven't seen you...since you became pregnant."

_That_ realization suddenly struck her as well. "I know…it's been too long since we've seen one another." She felt a fresh twinge of guilt. It seemed like the only time she did see her sister was when she needed her and she hated that fact. More than she'd ever admit. But this was about Robin, not her. Anna wanted someone here she trusted. Alex was a doctor. The only other doctor Anna knew, she no longer trusted. So for Robin's sake she'd swallow her pride.

Alex held out her hand. "Come. Let's take a taxi to your apartment and we'll come back first thing tomorrow morning."

"I want to be here when she wakes up…"

"They've sedated her, to help her sleep. She won't wake for several hours."

"But when she does…"

"When she does, she'll need you to be there for her," Alex finished for her. "She may have to change her drug regimen and that could take its toll on her. Robin is going to need you to be strong for her and you can't do that if you don't eat or sleep."

Anna stared at her sleeping daughter. "I don't want her to be alone when she wakes up."

"Alright," Alex conceded, taking Anna's hand in hers. "I'll come back and stay here with her, if that'll help you sleep."

Her sister had a way of doing that. Of calming her. Even when she spoke about Robin's condition, there was no hint of panic or fear in her voice, only calm, assured certainty that she'd be alright. As much as she hated making the call and asking for help, Anna couldn't imagine anyone she'd rather have here with her than Alex.

"You don't have to do that," Anna told her softly.

"I know. I want to."

"I'll stay…I'm fine, really."

Alex gave her a gentle push. "You're going home to rest for a few hours. Doctor's orders. The less time you spend arguing with me, the sooner you'll be home and the sooner you can come back here."

Anna sighed, knowing she didn't have the energy to fight someone as persistent as she was. "Fine…but if you're going to insist on staying with her, at least let me make my own way home."

"Fine then." Alex gave her a mock salute. "Promise me you'll eat something and get some sleep, okay?"

"Will do," Anna grimaced at the thought of food in the middle of the night. "I'm sure I'll find some crackers."

"Morning sickness, still?"

Anna nodded, moving a hand over her stomach. "I think she's like her Dad…she likes to make things interesting."

Alex laughed. _"She?"_

Anna put a hand on her stomach. "I haven't had an amnio yet…but I have a gut feeling it's going to be a girl. Only a girl could be this difficult before she's even born."

"I guess there's something to be said for adoption then." Alex grinned. "It might not be foolproof but at least there's no morning sickness."

Anna's eyes widened when she realised what her sister was saying. A fresh wave of guilt flooded her. _How in the world could she have forgotten?_ "Oh Alex! The baby you were going to adopt, I haven't even asked you how it went!"

"It went…it went alright. But the little boy we were going to adopt, well...he isn't quite so little."

"What do you mean?"

"He's fifteen."

"Fifteen months?"

"No. Years."

Anna looked at her incredulously. "You adopted a teenager?"

"Well, _I_ didn't, but that's another story." She gave Anna another push. "It's almost two in the morning. I'll tell you the whole story later." She took her Burberry trench coat and handed it to her sister. "It's chilly outside now, take my coat."

Anna tried to hand it back to her. "I'm taking a taxi home."

"Take it," Alex insisted.

Anna took the coat, put it on and bent over Robin's sleeping form to kiss her forehead.

"Thank you," she said softly as she turned back to her sister. "Thank you for coming."

"You don't have to."

"I know, but it means the world to me, and I want you to know." Anna was already halfway out the door when she took a final glance at her daughter. "Will you make sure nothing happens to her?"

Alex nodded. "I will. Promise."

_Paris, France_

Jan yawned as he perused through the financial file for Faison's laboratory in Marseilles. 'Curing AIDS,' he thought cynically, recalling his conversation with Faison the night before. 'Of all the crazy things to do for love, this one certainly takes the cake.'

As if he could read Jan's thoughts, Cesar Faison entered the room that very moment.

He was smiling broadly.

"Good news, sir?" Jan asked him.

Cesar's smile broadened. "Extremely good news. Ivan wants to buy thirty of them."

Jan raised his eyebrows. "At what price?"

"The one we discussed, fifteen thousand Euros."

Jan was impressed. It would cost them only three thousand a piece to duplicate the tracking device. Or at least that's what Jan thought the gadget was that Faison had sold to the Russian. He still didn't care. However, he did care about the profits it would yield them. "That's a good price," Jan admitted. No matter how grandiose his schemes, Jan had to give Faison credit where credit was due. Aside from being a formidable spy, he had a brilliant mind for business.

"Actually, I'm glad you're here," Jan told him. "I wanted to ask you something."

Faison poured himself a cognac from his crystal decanter. "Go ahead."

"You took two researchers off the lab's payroll and put them on your private payroll. Why?"

Faison smiled. "You are so very thorough, my friend. I admire that about you."

Jan blushed. Compliments from his employer were rare and they always took him by surprise.

"I needed two scientists to concentrate on something else," Faison explained.

"May I ask what it is?"

Faison sank into the leather sofa across from the desk Jan was working at. "I have a plan…"

"A plan?" Why did Jan sense that the name Anna was about to enter this conversation?

"For Anna's unborn child."

Jan remained silent.

"I know you don't approve of my, what do you call it? My, 'obsession' with her?" Faison told him in response to his silence.

"You've never sought my approval before, sir. As for Anna, I am indifferent to her," Jan conceded. "But I fear for you. I fear you are going to break the deal and that it will cause us a great deal of problems. Scorpio _will_ kill you if you go after Anna."

Faison chuckled taking a sip of his cognac. "Why is everyone so fearful these days, Jan? What happened to real men? The greater the risk, the greater the reward. Have some faith, Jan. Should it ever come to a showdown between me and Scorpio, who's to say I won't be the one who emerges victorious?"

"I have more faith in you than anyone else in this world," was quick to point out. "But Scorpio is a man who has nothing to lose except his wife and daughter. A man with nothing to lose is always a dangerous man."

This time Cesar Faison laughed. "Who knows if he has nothing left to lose? He might have a whole brood of little African babies by now."

"Why?" Jan asked softly, unable to see the humour in Faison's words. "Why after all the years, can't you just let her go? She set an explosion that nearly killed you. You hated her for a long time. The only thing that offered you any sort of pleasure was that you succeeded in keeping Scorpio away from her as well."

Faison ran a finger along the scar on his face. It was an eternal reminder of that day in Venezuela, of the explosion that in mere seconds had changed three lives forever. "I've had a long time to think about that day…" he mused. "And yes, you're right. I did loathe her for along time. It was the only thing that allowed me to stay away from her."

"So what changed?"

"_I_ changed." Faison said, his voice barely audible. "I'm getting older and I realize no matter how much I have, it all means nothing if, in the end, I don't have her."

Jan looked at him sadly. "Even if you risk losing everything in the process?"

"Yes." He took a deep sip of his cognac. "Because she's worth it."

_Andrassy Estate, Vadsel, Hungary _

Dimitri Marick tied his son's bowtie and Andrei squirmed.

"Too much!" he protested pushing Dimitri's hand away.

"Too 'tight,'" Dimitri corrected him.

"Yes, too tight!" Andrei agreed, remembering the word.

"It's supposed to be tight."

"I hate it," Andrei sulked.

Dimitri frowned. "One evening, that's all. It's not going to kill you to wear this for one evening."

"Maybe. Maybe it kills me." He made a chocking noise, pretending he couldn't breathe.

"Stop it," Dimitri growled.

Andrei held his hands to his neck, as if he were strangling himself. "You adopt me and then you kill me with bowtie."

Dimitri rolled his eyes. "Don't give me any ideas."

Andrei grinned now. "Alex will be angry if you kill me."

"Don't bet on it," Dimitri quipped. He nervously checked the time on his Longines watch. In less than half an hour the first guests would start to arrive. Maybe Alex had been right, maybe they should have waited before 'parading Andrei in front of dozens of old world aristocrats', as she so kindly put it.

But dozens of distant cousins and aunts and uncles, had been calling him since the adoption. The arrival of a new Marick was no small event. Sometimes Dimitri forgot that he wasn't just Dimitri Marick, thoroughbred breeder, he was also Count Andrassy, head of the Marick estate at Vadsel, and with that title came a centuries-old duty to uphold the traditions of the Marick name.

He wore a black, full-dress and tails tuxedo complete with white tie, cummerbund, and white silk scarf. It was an excessive outfit that he rarely pulled from the closet these days. Furthermore, he'd also be wearing the royal Andrassy sash draped across his jacket, coupled with a pair of diamond cufflinks that sported the Andrassy insignia.

There were times when he truly enjoyed the pomp and circumstance of his heritage. He knew he played the part well. But tonight he wasn't in the mood.

'I'm missing my most important accessory,' he thought with a smirk. He wished Alex were here, not only because all eyes would then fall on her when they entered a room, but also because she had a way of making him feel infinitely more at ease. Nowadays he felt naked without her at his side at these functions. 'That, and of course she'd tell me how handsome I look.'

"You look funny," Andrei told him.

"Funny? Funny how?" God, he _really_ wished Alex were here.

"Your jacket. You look like Julian."

Julian was one of the estate's butlers.

Dimitri glared at Andrei. _Maybe I was wrong…maybe that bowtie isn't quite tight enough yet._

Andrei raised his eyebrows innocently. "Alex is coming tonight?"

"No. Alex is going to stay in Paris for another night or two."

Andrei sighed. "It is better if she is here," he pointed out. "For you."

Dimitri said nothing. Andrei's odd English was becoming strangely comforting to his ears.

"And for me," he added with a grin that showed off his new braces. "Why is she not here?" he asked.

Dimitri frowned. "Because her niece is ill."

"Alex is a doctor." It made sense to Andrei. "She is going to help her."

"Something like that…" Dimitri mumbled. Truthfully, the fact that Alex was in Paris with Anna bothered him.

Anna Devane always thundered into Alex's life like a bolt of lighting at the most inopportune of times. It was her typical modus operandi.

Out of nowhere, an old man by the name of Bart had attended a party one night long ago, and told Alex of Anna's existence. About a twin sister she had no idea she had.

That same night Alex had disappeared from Dimitri's life. Bart had insisted that Alex not only help her twin sister but also keep her whereabouts a secret, to protect Anna.

And Alex, afraid of jeopardizing Anna's life, did as he asked. Dimitri's world had crashed down on him that night, and he'd spent endless days trying to find his wife. When he finally did find her in Canada, Alex asked to bring back her ill sister to hide out at their Pine Valley estate; an action that proved fatal for his cousin.

Gillian, whom he'd loved like a daughter, lost her life because an assassin looking for Anna had made a wrong call.

While the botched murder attempt might not have been Anna's fault, there was one thing Dimitri_ was _certain about: Anna Devane was trouble.

Alex might be willing to overlook her sister's dark past, but Dimitri wouldn't.

In fact, unbeknownst to Alex, he'd gone so far as to investigate her past and what he found shocked him.

He discovered that Anna had made her share of enemies in a colourful past that included allegations of treason, betrayal and fencing stolen objets d'art. At one point she'd even been on trial for murder.

Dimitri was no stranger to making mistakes and he wouldn't fault someone else for theirs, but when it came to Anna Devane, it was more than just a case of too many mistakes. There was a side to Anna that genuinely frightened Dimitri.

He often wondered just what she was capable of.

Alex, on the other hand, was blindly loyal to her sister. It was something that Dimitri knew he had to accept. A part of him could even understand it. Alex had no other family. Aside from Aiden Devane, Anna was her only flesh and blood link to a past she barely remembered. Dimitri couldn't blame her for wanting to cling to that.

What he didn't understand was that it was a loyalty that didn't seem to go both ways. Anna rarely called Alex and she never visited Vadsel in spite of her sister's numerous invitations. Above all, Dimitri couldn't for the life of him understand why Alex always felt oddly inadequate next to her sister, as though somehow her achievements were irrelevant next to Anna.

'Perhaps having a mother that repeatedly told her she wasn't the daughter she wanted didn't help matters,' he thought cynically.

He wondered if Andrei were to fall off a horse and lose consciousness for a while, if that would bring Anna to Vadsel in the same hurry that had taken Alex to Paris without a moment's hesitation.

'Doubt it,' he thought cynically. In spite of Alex's belief that her sister had a heart of gold, Dimitri wasn't convinced of _that_ either. In fact, when it came down to it, there was only one thing he could honestly admit when it came to his wife's sister:

He didn't like her. At all.

'Stop it,' he chided himself. This wasn't the time for pettiness or for raising issues he was powerless to do anything about. 'Robin is HIV positive,' he reminded himself. 'It's not quite the same as Andrei falling off a horse. And you're only sulking because your wife isn't here to charm nearly a hundred hard-to-entertain guests for you.'

The phone rang and it interrupted his thoughts. He picked it up and smiled at the sound of Alex's voice. He asked her about Robin and was relieved to hear her response. Unlike the questionable feelings he had towards his sister-in-law, he_ did_ like Robin Scorpio. The young woman had been to Vadsel twice and Dimitri genuinely enjoyed her company. In many ways she reminded him more of Alex than she did of Anna.

"I'll survive," he chuckled. "Now Andrei…that's another matter." He turned towards his son, grinning as he ended the conversation. "Love you too." He then handed the receiver to Andrei. "Alex wants to talk to you."

Andrei raised his eyebrows. "Me?"

"Yes, you."

He heard Andrei giggle on the phone. "Funny. Yes, he looks funny."

Dimitri sighed. 'Great. They're already conspiring against me.'

"Good bye." Andrei handed the phone back to him. "She say you always look funny when you go to big dinners."

"She did not." Dimitri took a final look in the mirror and straightened his silk scarf, before putting his hands on Andrei's small, wiry shoulders. "Let's go and show the world the newest Marick."

_Hotel Dieu Hospital, Paris, France_

Alex watched as Robin stirred and slowly opened her eyes.

Robin's pupils focused on her surroundings and then on the person who sat next to her.

"Mom?"

Alex smiled. "Guess again."

Robin managed a weak smile in return. "Alex."

Alex moved to squeeze her shoulder, her cream coloured suit now wrinkled, as she got up from the chair she'd dozed in. "You got it."

"Things must be pretty glum if Mom called you."

"You scared us, but I don't think glum is the word I'd use. How do you feel?"

Robin groaned. "Awful. What happened?"

"I don't know...maybe you can tell me?"

Robin turned over, noticing the IV line that ran into her forearm. "Is it the protocol? Is it not working anymore? How's the T-cell count? And what about..."

Alex raised a hand, interrupting her. "Hey…slow down. You're going to be okay. We'll talk details a later."

"Oh God, Alex…" Robin bolted upright in the bed.

Alex put both hands on her niece's shoulder now. "Robin…what is it?"

"What day is it?"

"Day? It's…it's Wednesday. Robin... lie back down."

Robin closed her eyes in despair. "My final exam. It's this morning…if I miss this…"

"Robin...you have bigger things to worry about right now."

"You don't understand. If I miss this…" she started. "I lose everything I've worked for this semester." She tried to push down the railing of the bed in order to get out of it. But Alex pushed her back onto the pillow.

"They'll let you re-write it. What happened wasn't your fault. The university will understand."

"No…they don't make exceptions." She was crying now.

"Robin, sweetie," Alex held a hand next to her cheek. "Please calm down, or else I'm going to call a doctor in here."

"You have no idea how much I want this…"

"You have to be well before anything else...do you understand that?"

Robin nodded, her pale face anxious.

"It's going to be okay…"

"I have to call my professor," she insisted.

"We'll do that later."

"Alex…I have to pass this semester! You of all people have to know how important that is!"

"I know how important _you_ are," Alex insisted. "I can speak to your professor. We'll do something but _not right now_."

Robin nodded, on the verge of more tears. Trying to take a dep breath. "I'm scared, Alex. I feel like I've lost control...of the HIV..."

"It's going to be okay, Robin. Promise."

"Where's Mom?" Robin asked softly. "Is she okay?"

"I told her to go home and get some rest. She'll be back soon."

"She's angry with me," Robin whispered. "I hurt her."

Alex ran a hand along her niece's forehead. "Sweetie, she's not angry with you."

"She is."

"Look, I don't know what's going on with you two. Anna won't tell me, because, well.... because that would mean letting her guard down, but I do know she loves you. Whatever it is, don't let this eat you up, Robin. Worst of all...don't let it make you sick."

"I was so angry with her," Robin mumbled. "That she wasn't around when I needed her. I wanted to prove to her that I didn't need her anymore..." Tears fell down her face now. "God, I'm sorry...I don't know why I'm telling you this...".

Alex gave her a lop-sided smile. "It's good to let things out. " Robin looked so miserable, Alex wanted to pull her into a hug. But she figured it wasn't her comfort she needed. "Your Mom's here for you _now_, sweetheart. Why don't you let her love you?"

Robin sobbed, "I've been such an idiot, Alex..."

Alex saw her wanting to say something else, when she saw her sister standing in the doorway.

"Mom…"

Anna's gaze was hesitant, staring first at her daughter then at her sister. "I thought you promised me she'd still be asleep by the time I got here."

"Yeah…well, I thought she would be."

Anna moved to squeeze Robin's hand. "How are you, sweetie?"

"I'm sorry…if I scared you."

"It's okay..."

Alex got up, putting a hand on Anna's shoulder. "I'm going to see if I can catch Dr. Perraud and have him take a look at Robin."

Anna acknowledged her gratitude with one glance.

Although the two of them never had a chance to grow truly close, Alex marvelled that in spite of it, there were times when didn't need to say a single thing to know exactly what her sister was thinking.

Anna waited until Alex left the room before turning back to Robin.

"How are you feeling?"

"Mom…"

"Sweetheart, you're crying…what is it?" Anna sat down on the side of the hospital bed.

"Mom, there's something I want to ask you."

"Anything."

"Will you stay with me?"

"I'm not leaving you, Robin. I meant that."

Robin shook her head. She looked exhausted. "No…I mean, the apartment. Will you stay with me until the baby's born?"

Anna didn't understand. All this time Robin had encouraged her to find her own place. Insisting she needed more space than she could offer.

"Sure...if that's what you want, that's what I'll do."

Robin was still crying. "I made a mistake, Mom…"

Anna watched her daughter try and sit up and used the opportunity to wrap her arms around her. "Robin…please don't worry about anything you did or said. Not now."

"I thought I didn't need you anymore, but I was wrong. I do."

Anna wanted to hold her daughter and never let go. "It's okay, sweetheart." She held her tight wanting to envelop her with her love. Wanting her to know she had nothing to be sorry for.

Anna held her until she tears stopped. Until she knew for certain that no matter what the future held, Anna would face it with her.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12 **

_Andrassy Estate, Vadsel, Hungary_

The first thing he noticed when she peeked her head into the room, was her smile.

In that instant he realized how much he'd missed it.

Dimitri Marick put out his cigar and got up from the leather sofa to embrace his wife.

"Welcome back, darling."

"Mmm..." she sunk into his embrace. "You smell nice."

Dimitri laughed. "Surprised?" She always nagged him to stop smoking but he knew she loved the smell of a good cigar as much as he did. "I missed you," he added.

"You know you shouldn't smoke, right? I've already given you the five million reasons why, haven't I?"

Dimitri smirked as he led her to the sofa, nudging her to sit down. "How's Robin?"

Alex pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "She'll be fine, I think. She's had to make some changes in her drug cocktail, which is always challenging for HIV patients. I had a final look at her blood work before I left Paris and it looked promising."

"Good."

"She's a fighter," Alex said, unmistakably proud of her niece. "I'll go back in a few weeks to see how she's doing."

"And your sister?"

Alex met his gaze with a lop-sided smile. "She's…well, Anna…she's Anna. I think the pregnancy, in addition to Robin's problems and all the other chaos in her life, has worn her down more than she'd ever admit to me."

Dimitri said nothing, pouring her some port into a small, crystal glass.

"She's completely exhausted. Continued morning sickness, headaches…it's been rough for her so far. Robin's scare didn't help."

"At least she's got you to help her out for a few days."

"I'd help her more if she'd let me."

"That's up to her isn't it?" Dimitri shrugged. "Besides, you did warn her about David. You did what you could."

Alex took a sip of port. "Hmm…I suppose." She smiled at him. "But the heart, it wants what it wants. You and I both know that, better than anyone."

Dimitri observed her with interest, as he often did when the topic at hand was Anna Devane.

Alex was impatient by nature and not particularly forgiving. Yet when it came to Anna her patience was infinite. Dimitri didn't understand it. But that didn't matter. In Alex's mind, Anna could do no wrong.

He saw a book peeking out of her purse. "What are you reading?" he asked wanting to change the subject.

Alex pulled it out with a grin. _The Teenage Years: A_ _Parent's_ _Guide._

He matched her grin. "I see…nice choice."

"Speaking of teenagers, where is our troublemaker?" she asked. "I didn't see him on the way up."

"I don't know. I haven't seen him since he came home from school. He's probably where he always is, at the stables."

"Is everything alright?" The way she looked at him told him that she caught the hint of irritation in his voice. "How was the big dinner?"

Dimitri sighed, not sure he wanted to relive that evening. "The dinner was fine until I made the toast to Andrei."

"What happened?"

"I raised a glass to Andrei Marick, at which point Andrei promptly stood up, in front of everyone there, and corrected me, saying his name wasn't Andrei Marick but Andrei _Ionescu_."

Alex cringed. "Oh no…I can just imagine the reactions"

"You could have cut the silence with a knife, Alex. There were almost two hundred people in that room and not a single, solitary sound came from any of them."

"And then?"

"Then I wanted to strangle Andrei. Literally."

Alex reached over to cup his chin in her hand. "Oh, Dimitri...I'm so sorry. I should have been there."

Dimitri's lips brushed her hand. "In a way, I'm glad you weren't. I'm glad you were spared some of the looks I got that night, from people I thought I knew. People I thought were my friends. Some old Count from Saxony, I can't even remember his name now, told me after the dinner that I deserved his insolence. That's what I get for being so damn liberal and adopting an ungrateful mixed breed who would obviously never appreciate his good fortune. _Mixed breed_? Can you believe it, Alex? Do people still use language like that?"

"At least Andrei gave them something to talk about."

Dimitri chuckled. "Mind you I could care less what they think…"

Alex's look let him know she was aware that he wasn't being entirely honest.

"Still," he went on. "I don't understand why Andrei did what he did. He had to know how much that would embarrass me. He has no great love for his birth parents, not his mother and much less the father who abandoned him when he barely three. It's as though he was just doing it to…"

"…push your buttons?"

"Something like that." Dimitri turned to face her, "But why? Why would he do that? I thought we were finally starting to make him feel like he was a part of us. Now I'm no longer sure he even wants that."

"Oh he does." She said it with a certainty that took Dimitri by surprise.

"You sure?"

She leaned her head against the back of the sofa letting him see how tired she was. "I have a feeling he's afraid that we're not for real. That this is all some kind of joke, and one day he's going to wake up and have us tell him we don't want him after all."

"Why?"

"Think about it, darling. You adopted him on a whim. From one day to the next you bring him from a backwater hellhole to a palatial residence in the Hungarian countryside. To ride thoroughbred horses that are worth more than all the equipment in that orphanage. Tell me you wouldn't be skeptical? Wouldn't you ask yourself if it isn't too good to be true?"

Dimitri sighed. "Maybe…you have a point. But how does that have anything to do with what he did?"

"He wants to test us. To see how far he has to go before we let him know how we really feel about having him here."

"You think?" He loved the way she reasoned. The way she could take a problem and put it in a context that made it seem somehow conquerable.

Her certainty reminded him of their second meeting at her London practice, when she'd told him in no uncertain terms, what all other doctors hadn't dared to suggest; that she was going to cure him.

It had been impossible to look into her eyes and not believe every word she said. Of course, in the end, she did. Cure him.

"Or who knows, maybe I'm wrong…maybe he's just being a moody, rebel-without-a-cause, pain-in-the-ass teenager."

Dimitri laughed. "Is that what that book is telling you, Freud?"

Alex winked at him. "If you make an effort to speak to him, I might lend it to you."

"It's a deal."

"He's not a bad kid, Dimitri. All I have to do is watch him with the horses and I see he's got an amazing heart…and we said from the beginning he could keep his name if he wanted to."

Dimitri nodded. "I know…we did. I just wish he didn't have to point it out during the biggest social event of the year."

Alex smiled. "We'll have to teach him that timing is everything, not just when it comes to horses." She tried to stifle a yawn. "Let him know he hurt you…but let him know that in the end it doesn't make a difference. That he's part of our family no matter what his name is. Prove his suspicions wrong. Besides, it's not as though we ever thought this was going to be easy."

Dimitri watched as she stretched herself on the sofa, an action that made him smile. She wore a soft, brown, cashmere v-neck sweater that hugged her body. He wanted to run his hand along the smooth fabric before sliding it off, but he fought back the urge. Alex was exhausted from the three-day trip to Paris. She had needs other than making love on the sofa, sleep being one of them.

"I'll go see where Andrei is…" she started but Dimitri stopped her.

"Why don't you do that later?" Dimitri countered. "How about a nice, long bath instead?"

"That does sound good..."

Her eyes lit up when she looked at him, with a warmth that travelled straight to his core.

Suddenly the dinner catastrophe that had been tormenting him no longer seemed to matter. His wife was back at Vadsel. Even trying to figure out the whirlwind that was Andrei Ionescu was no longer as daunting a challenge as it was ten minutes ago.

The woman he loved was here with him.

Everything else would fall into place.

_Two months later_

_-_

_December_

_Seaview Hospital, Pine Valley PA_

"She's deteriorating," David Hayward mumbled.

Leticia bit on a bagel, cream cheese oozing out its sides. "Her condition is."

"No, she is. _Melissa_," David reiterated.

David Hayward knew he had changed.

Before Leo's death he'd never hesitated an opportunity to voice an opinion. He was known for his temper, a by-product of both his arrogance and his genius, yet lately he rarely bothered to correct residents on what even Leticia could see were blatant mistakes.

"What do you care?" she asked, touching a nerve.

It was a cruel question. Perhaps the biggest insult to any physician. But Leticia obviously didn't care. It was testament to her own passion for their work that his indifference was starting to get on her nerves too.

"I'm her primary physician," was all he said. The David of old would have blasted her for daring to insinuate that he didn't care about one of his patients. "She's losing her will to hold on until we have a heart."

"Then do something."

David rolled his eyes. "Like what? Maybe buy her some 'Chicken Soup for the Soul' or how 'bout I say some prayers for her in the chapel, is that what you're thinking of, Oprah? She needs a heart not a motivational speech!"

Leticia wrapped up her bagel. "You bitterness is making me lose my appetite." She gave him a frown. "Don't knock the power of prayer."

"Wait," David called out after her, as she started walking away.

"What?"

"Why don't her parents ever come to see her?"

Leticia shrugged. "They do. Her mother was here last week, wasn't she?"

"Melissa's condition is serious. Most other kids would have their parents sleeping in the same room as them by now, and this kid gets a visit once a week?"

"Her father's a Senator. Her mother's busy playing hostess. They're in the limelight and they have two other kids."

David frowned. People like the Cartwrights didn't deserve children. Perhaps he would give them a call later tonight and tell them that. Then again, he'd probably forget the whole thing before the day was over.

Thoughts of his own child crossed his mind and he angrily pushed them aside. _Anna_. _The baby_. He hated how in every free second his mind automatically drifted back to them. He hated that that no matter what happened and what he did, he still wanted them so unbearably much. It was as though some higher power was tormenting him, dangling things in front of him that he knew he could never possess. Love. A family. Things he knew he didn't deserve.

"Her father spoke to Gord about bringing in some local news reporters next week to show him visiting his sick daughter."

The notion infuriated David. "Tell him to forget it! I won't have him dragging cameras and bacteria ridden strangers into that girls' room. If he wants to see his kid he can do it without a horde of reporters."

Leticia pursed her lips. "You do whatever works for you, Doctor Hayward. I'm going to the staff cafeteria to finish this."

"Good."

Leticia raised her eyebrows.

"You shouldn't be eating at the nurse's station anyway."

Leticia picked up his cup of coffee and tossed in the waste bin. "In that case, neither should you." This time she turned on her heels and didn't look back.

Had she looked back she'd have seen a rare smirk of amusement on his face.

Only Leticia Castillo was able to treat David Hayward the way she did.

-

_Late_r

-

David glanced at the clock that hung above him. Three o'clock on the afternoon. He'd been here for almost 24 hours, his only respite a brief nap in the residents' lounge. The stubble he rarely bothered to shave had turned into a semi-beard.

He made a mental point to shave when he got back to the cabin tonight. But he already knew that he'd probably forget.

'Melissa Cartwright, why are you making things difficult for me?' he thought, staring in the direction of her door. She'd grown downright hostile towards him lately and if he were able to escape from his cloud of indifference he might have mustered up some anger towards her.

In spite of his better judgement, he moved towards her room, quietly opening the door to make sure he didn't disturb her if she was asleep. That was mostly what she did lately. Sleep.

When he went inside he saw that she was wide awake. She'd lost considerable weight in the last two months and gone from slightly overweight to almost underweight. Her organs were expending all their energy keeping her alive.

"How's it going, kid?" he asked.

"I'm not a kid," she shot back, the tone of her voice making her annoyance clear.

David sat down at her bedside. "You're twelve years old. Legally that makes you a kid."

"What do you want?" she asked him. Her face was pale and it took considerable effort for her to speak. Even her breathing came in long, difficult gasps. As her heart failed, her lungs too protested at the inadequacies of its pumping capacity.

"I came to see how you're doing."

"You were here this morning. That's all you have to do isn't it? See me once a day."

David snorted. What was it about him that brought out such cynicism from members of the opposite sex? Even ones that were only twelve years old. "True. But today I felt like torturing myself with an extra visit."

The unexpectedly sharp answer made her laugh and it lit up her blue eyes. Kids liked honesty more than most adults ever gave them credit for.

"Well?"

"I'm sick of being sick."

"Tell me Melissa, is there anything that I could do for you that you think would make you feel better?"

"You mean besides get me a new heart?"

"Yes. Besides a new heart."

Melissa pondered the question and took a deep breath before presenting her answer. "A rabbit."

"A what?"

"A rabbit. You know, a bunny. With fur and big ears."

David raised his eyebrows. "You want a stuffed rabbit? I thought you said you're not a kid anymore?"

"Not stuffed. A real one. Here, to keep me company."

David Hayward frowned. Of all the crazy things to ask for. "Look, I'd love to give you a rabbit, but you know that goes against every policy in the book. To have live animals in the patient rooms is not a possibility. But there's some really nice stuffed…"

Melissa sighed and cut him off. "So why'd you ask?"

There were times when David appreciated her directness, but now it annoyed him. Though he had to admit, she had a point. Why bother asking if he couldn't give her what she wanted anyway? Melissa was a kid who was dying and all she wanted was someone to keep her company. Someone in the form of an animal with big, furry ears. She really wasn't asking for much. And even that much he couldn't deliver.

"I'm sorry," he said, sincerely. "I shouldn't have come here and asked you this."

Melissa's eyes were fixated on him now.

He moved to get up. "I shouldn't have bothered you at all. I'll see you tomorrow, Melissa."

"David," she called out when his back was already turned to her.

"Yes, Melissa?"

"It's okay that you asked. It was sort of nice of you."

David gave her a rueful smile. "It wasn't fair."

"Maybe you could stay here for a bit?" she asked him.

"Stay?"

"I get bored. Maybe you can stay and talk or something."

David didn't know what to say. He went back to her bed and sat down on the edge. "I could do that." He saw her blush for the first time.

"Only if you're, like, not busy…"

He shook his head. "No. My shift is done. I've got all the time in the world." It was the truth. He had no place to be when he left the hospital. No one to come home to.

"What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know."

"Have you had a rabbit before?" he asked her.

"Yeah," Melissa nodded, smiling. "A rabbit and a cat."

David returned her smile, making himself comfortable on the rim of her bed. "In that case, we definitely have something to talk about…why don't you tell me about them, Melissa…"

_Paris, France_

"Leia. What about Leia?" Robin asked her from across the living room.

Anna shot her a puzzled look. "_Leia_?"

Robin smirked. "You know from Star Wars! The princess with the long, dark hair. You and I both used to have long, dark hair and chances are my sister will too. It's perfect."

Anna cringed. "You want to name your little sister after someone in a sci-fi movie?" The amniocentesis she had last week had confirmed her suspicions. She was going to have a baby girl. "How about something a little less intergalactic, maybe Leah or even Leila?"

Robin wrinkled her nose. "Hmm…I don't know about Leila, but I kind of like Leah."

"It's simple, but it's still sort of unique. I like it."

Anna watched her daughter ponder the name, as though trying to figure out a math equation, her face etched in concentration. They'd been trying to come up with names for the past week, without much success.

"Leah Devane. That does sound nice."

Anna smiled in agreement. "I agree…very nice."

Robin grinned. "Do we have an actual consensus? She just needs a middle name then." Robin put the finishing touches on her nail polish. "How about Leah Jade?"

Anna laughed. "Now she sounds like she should be in a romance novel!"

"You have something else in mind?"

"I was thinking of giving her my sister's name as a middle name."

Robin gave her a puzzled look. "Leah Alexandra?"

Anna shook her head. "Lindsay."

"Ah…of course. I think that's a wonderful idea. Leah Lindsay…I like it."

"I want to remember her somehow. She died much too soon."

"Aiden would love it."

"Yeah, I think he'd like it."

She observed her daughter with a smile.

So much had changed since Robin's hospitalization almost two months ago.

As Alex had suspected, following her collapse, the doctors ordered Robin to adjust her protocol and try a different drug treatment to renew her fight against the human immunodeficiency virus.

Anna shuddered as she thought back to the two weeks that followed her daughter's hospital stay.

They were two weeks of hell. There was no other way to describe them.

The doctors warned them that Robin's body might react badly to the initial change and they'd been horribly right. For two gruelling weeks Anna watched as Robin's body fought off the combined viral and chemical assault it was subjected too.

Anna would hold her hair back, as Robin vomited constantly, often not leaving the bathroom for hours. As difficult as it was, she made her take and retake, again and again, the very medication that was making her ill.

She bathed her in countless cold compresses when her body was covered in a feverish sweat during her long, sleepless nights. She held her hand for long moments, when the new pills gave her chills and cramps and nightmares.

And when she was certain Robin couldn't see her. When she was finally, mercifully asleep, Anna cried bitter, angry tears for this unforgiving disease that was coming so close to destroying her daughter's young life.

One night, in all her anger and frustration she'd gone to her new apartment, which still stood empty, and smashed one of its beautiful bay windows into a thousand pieces. It was a dumb, futile act that she later regretted, but at the time it brought her some much needed comfort.

There were countless times during those two weeks when Anna wanted to give up. Wanted to let someone else take care of Robin. To close her eyes and shut out the world around her. She wanted to call Alex, Sean, Jackson, even Aiden…and most of all she wanted David. Not wanted. _Needed_.

But for reasons she couldn't explain, Anna called no one.

Robin needed her. Robin was the only one who mattered in those two weeks and she focused on her with a blind devotion that allowed her to forget everything else.

Then one day things changed.

Robin woke up one morning and she felt better. _Looked_ better. Gone was the constant nausea, the cramps, the chills and the fever. Her body was slowly adjusting to the new drugs. The day after that, she could swallow her pills without throwing up for the first time and then, over the course of a week, her T-Cell count rose and lastly, thankfully, her viral load began to decrease.

In the war against HIV, they'd won a crucial battle. Together.

Then, as if to remind her that she too was only human, Anna's difficult pregnancy came back to haunt her. Two days after Robin's body began to adjust to the new drugs, Anna returned to work and consequently fainted on the way home.

She ended up in a hospital and the physician who attended to her insisted on contacting Robin.

"Please don't call my daughter, she's had enough to deal with this past week," Anna had pleaded with the doctor.

"If you expect me to discharge you tonight, then it will be because I know someone will take care of you when you leave this hospital. If I don't, you stay here overnight and then your daughter will find out anyway, _n'est-ce pas_?" He'd given her a smile that was both concerned and conspiratorial.

The French rolled easily off her tongue now and Anna had argued with him. Futile efforts which the doctor countered by hooking her up to an intravenous line to stave off the dehydrating effects of her continued morning sickness and lecturing her for not taking better care of herself.

It was a lecture that her own daughter repeated when she came to pick her up from the hospital.

Robin had given her an angry, indignant look. "I can't believe you weren't going to tell me you fainted this afternoon. That you would try and hide that from me."

"I was tired, that's all. Don't get on my case."

Robin had sighed. "You're not just tired, Mom. You're completely exhausted! You spent two weeks looking after me day and night, and now when you're sick you won't even _tell_ me?"

Anna had been annoyed with Robin's concern, yet at the same time she was pleased to see the anger and energy that came from her. It meant she was doing better. "I'm not sick…" she'd repeated with futility.

Robin had frowned, gently placing a flat hand on her pregnant belly. "You took care of me Mom, please let me take care of you too. You and my little sister…because if I don't know what I would do if anything were to happen to you."

Anna had to struggle to fight back tears, as Robin's words made her realize how close she'd come once again to jeopardizing the miracle she was carrying.

Robin had bent down to kiss her cheek. "Stop fighting me," she'd whispered. "I did it too and because of it, I got well again."

Robin had taken her home that day and Anna had slept. For days, it seemed.

"Leah Lindsay Devane…looks like we have a winner." Robin grinned, bringing Anna back to the present.

Anna chuckled. "It only took a week."

Robin popped a potato chip into her mouth, careful not to smudge her newly polished fingernails. "Deciding on my sister's name _should_ take careful deliberation," she announced. "After all, she's going to have to live with it for the rest of her life."

"True."

"I was thinking, while I take some catch up classes over Christmas break, why don't you ask Alex if she'll come here for a few days?"

Anna eyed her, wonderingd what prompted the sudden shift in topic. "Why?"

"'Cause you're still having a hard time. You still get headaches and you still have morning sickness. Maybe it would be a good idea to have her around for a while, just, you know... to help you out."

Anna sighed. No topic of conversation was off limits anymore. As much as she loved the newfound honesty between them, at times it meant discussing things she'd rather not. "Robin, I don't need a babysitter. You know, I might actually enjoy you not hovering over me for a few days."

Robin grinned. "No you won't…you'll starve to death if I don't do the cooking."

"Funny."

"Seriously, Mom. I don't think Alex would mind…in fact I kind of mentioned it to her when we chatted on the phone last night. She said she'd love for us to meet Andrei…"

"You did _what_?" Anna's eyes couldn't hide their annoyance. "Tell me you didn't ask my sister to come here without so much as asking me did you?"

"I didn't _ask_…I just mentioned the idea to her, that's all." Robin paused, trying to make out her mother's expression. "You know, sometimes I get the feeling you don't like having her around. Am I missing something?"

Anna sighed. "I love my sister."

"But...?"

Anna bit her lip. "But nothing."

"But you don't want her around?"

"No…it's not that."

"Then what?" Robin pressed.

"I adore Alex. It's just that every time she comes to see me it's because I need something from her. She supposed to be my sister, Robin, not my rescuer."

This time it was Robin who sighed. "Oh man, is this going to be another 'I can take care of myself just fine thank you very much', arguments?"

Anna laughed. "Whatever."

Robin got up and waved her hands in the air, in an attempt to dry her freshly painted nails. "Alex is a doctor and she loves you. It's not like it's a chore for her to come and visit you."

Anna leaned back in the sofa. " Yes, she's a doctor. I know…a groundbreaking doctor who lives on a Hungarian estate with her husband, the millionaire Count. She rides thoroughbred horses, cures incurable diseases and takes care of her troubled sister in her spare time."

Robin eyes widened, taken aback by her words. "Is someone a little sarcastic today? Is that really how you see it?"

Anna cringed, wondering what had possessed her to voice her thoughts aloud. "I…no, of course not."

Robin smirked, bending down to kiss her mother's cheek. "If I didn't have to rush out to meet Chantal, I would try and figure what _exactly_ you're trying to say."

"I'm just tired…_I_ don't know what I'm trying to say, really…"

"Alex isn't perfect, Mom," Robin said, grabbing her keys. "Maybe if you didn't insist on putting her on a pedestal you might actually get to know her." She grinned a knowing grin. "Who knows, you might even like her."

Robin put on a navy, winter coat with matching wool gloves; "I'll see you later for dinner."

Anna watched her leave, a mixture of amusement and annoyance on her face. "Smart aleck," she whispered. Even so she had to admit, Robin's deductions weren't far off. "Of course, she's always right. She's _my_ daughter," she thought with a smirk. Maybe Robin _was_ right about Alex. 'Nobody's life is perfect.' Anna knew that all too well. 'If Alex's looks like it is, it's because you never bothered to scratch beneath the surface.'

Anna felt the baby kick and smiled as she moved a hand over her stomach, 'Hey Leah,' she whispered. _Leah_. She had a name now. "Leah," she said aloud, and the baby kicked again, as if to voice her agreement with the choice. "Maybe once you're born, I'll take Robin's advice…I'll try and get to know my sister a little better. God knows we already lost enough time, without me pushing her away because I think her life's too perfect."

The baby kicked twice more and then stopped.

Anna got up from the sofa attempting to find the paperwork she'd taken home from the office. Merely getting up took considerable effort these days. She was nearly eight months pregnant and, even though her doctor kept insisting she needed to gain more weight, Anna felt absolutely huge. 'If I get any bigger, I will need to be rolled to work,' she thought placing her hands on her back to ease the weight.

She was getting anxious now. Anxious to have the pregnancy over with. To hold her daughter in her arms.

'Soon,' she reminded herself. 'Soon.'

She heard a knock on the door as she got up.

Thinking Robin must have forgotten something, she moved to open the door without looking through the peephole. She chided herself for her carelessness when she saw the figure standing outside her door wasn't Robin but a man wearing a French postal uniform.

'_J'ai une livraison pour Madame Devane."_

"_C'est moi,"_ she answered.

The mailman held out a sheet of paper for her to sign and handed her a package.

Anna thanked him and went back inside to examine it. It was a small, light package maybe six or seven inches long and wide. There was no return address on the outside.

She instinctively held it close to her ear, listening for a ticking sound.

'Old habits die hard,' she thought. 'I doubt someone is sending you a bomb, idiot. Besides, it's hardly heavy enough.'

She took out a letter opener to tear the tape seal along the edges. A sliver of a rich, dark-purple colour caught her eye, making her think the package contained a fabric of sorts.

When she tore off the last piece of tape and opened it, she saw that she was mistaken. It wasn't a piece of fabric but a flower.

A single flower with purple petals the texture of velvet.

An orchid.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

'_Oh heavenly One, your sanctuary_  
_Your magic reunites once more_  
_what custom sternly separated._  
_All mankind shall become brothers_  
_Where your gentle wings abide.'_

-Beethoven-Ode to Joy

_Paris, France_

"And then there was joy," Faison announced to no one in particular, turning up the volume on his stereo. The streamlined, silver TEAC Legacy speakers had set him back well over five thousand Euros but he didn't care. He would gladly have spent twice as much. They were worth every penny.

Beethoven's Ninth Symphony reverberated through the room. He might have been sitting in the front row of a concert hall. Faison could hear the faint cough of a choir singer and the alto timbre of the violas struggling to distinguish themselves from the violins and cellos of the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra.

Herbert von Karajan was conducting this rendition and Cesar Faison closed his eyes as he sank into the music. Karajan elicited and demanded absolute perfection from his musicians.

'Surely the heavens are smiling, to have gained such a genius,' he thought with a smile.

'_Alle Menschen werden Bruder, wo dein sanfter Flugel weilt'_

Faison felt a tingling sensation in the tips of his fingers as the crescendo approached.

'_Seit Umschlungen, Millionen, dieser Kuss der ganzen Welt._'

"One kiss to all the world," Faison sighed, shaken by a touch of melancholy, as was the case each time the symphony neared its end. Like a good film, or an engrossing book, he hated that it had to end. He knew could listen to it again, but it wasn't the same. Every time he did, it was a unique experience that could never be recaptured.

"Sir, you didn't answer my question," Jan repeated.

"I didn't know you were in the room," Faison hissed. It was one thing to be interrupted during one of his increasingly rare classical music interludes, and another altogether to be interrupted during Beethoven's final masterpiece. "I take it this is important?"

"Doctor Savigneau is on the phone. He's calling from Marseilles with an update on the research you've asked him to do. You said you were taking all his calls."

Faison frowned. "I did, didn't I?" He gingerly ejected the Karajan CD from his stereo and blew a speck of dust from its surface before placing it carefully back into its case. "His timing is impeccable," he pointed out to Jan.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because today is the day I contacted her."

Jan felt a shiver run up the entire length of his spine. It was happening; the thing he feared most. Cesar might as well have announced that after today nothing would be the same again. "What if…" he gulped in mid-sentence. "How? How did you contact her? And what if the WSB saw you?"

Faison raised his arm in frustration, waving away his assistant. "The WSB, the WSB…don't you think they have better things to do than monitor the mail of one of their ex-agents?"

"Mail?"

"I sent her a flower."

Jan breathed a short sigh if relief. He hadn't contacted her then. At least not directly. "A flower?"

"She'll know it's me, when she sees the flower," Faison explained.

"You don't think the WSB keeps tabs on her mail?"

"Oh for God's sake!" There were times when Faison couldn't understand how anyone could be this apprehensive and still get a semblance of joy out of life. "It's been over ten years since I made the deal with Scorpio. _Ten years_, Jan! Do you really think they are watching Anna Devane with the same vigilance they did ten years ago?"

"I don't know…"

"Think, Jan! If you guard someone for ten years and nothing happens, what effect does that have on you? You become lax, distracted, disinterested…I have a feeling the WSB could care less about honouring Scorpio's deal at this point."

"But Robert Scorpio cares! What if he finds another means of protecting her? Aside from the WSB?"

Faison snorted, hating the mention of the name. "Scorpio's in Africa. He was in Angola last time I checked. If and when he finds out, it won't matter anymore. It'll be too late."

Jan drew in a deep breath. "It sounds like you have it all planned out."

"I do."

"I wish you would reconsider, sir. Anna Devane could cause us so many problems."

"I've already explained this to you. I'm willing to take the risk. I need to have her back in my life." He remembered the symphony whose sounds were still in his head. "I need some _joy_."

"I understand, sir," Jan acquiesced. There would be no means of dissuading him now. 'I tried to convince you otherwise,' he thought sadly. 'Once you make contact with her I'll have no choice…' "Doctor Savigneau is still on the phone," he told him. "He's waiting for you."

Faison straightened his suit jacket. "Good…because I need him. I need him to make this work."

He walked out of the room and left Jan behind, completely oblivious to the distraught look on his assistant's face.

_Paris, France _

As soon as Anna realized what was in the package, she dropped it to the floor.

"Oh God…" she gasped. It couldn't be.

Not him.

Not Cesar Faison. _Not again_.

"No way…" Her heart pounded and she made herself sit down. "He's dead. Gone."

She stared at the flower on the floor.

It was beautiful.

There was no note attached to it.

Anna took a deep breath. "Anyone could have sent this. _Anyone_."

Her hand shook as she picked up the phone to dial one of the few numbers she knew by heart. "Hey…it's me." Only when she spoke did she realize her voice trembled too.

"No…I'm fine. We're both fine…not both, all three of us, me, Robin and the baby."

His voice calmed her, as it always did. "Sean, I need to ask you something about Cesar Faison…no, no particular reason. Honestly, Sean, please…there's just something I need to know."

Her heart sank when he finally answered the questions she had. Anna had to drag out each answer from her reluctantly forthcoming friend. She could hear both the concern and the fear in his voice. Concern for her well-being and fear that she wasn't being entirely honest with him.

In turn, what he heard in her voice was anger.

"He survived the boat explosion and it never once occurred to you to _tell_ me?"

She listened to his reasoning, feeling the tears well up in her eyes. _Faison_ had survived. How was that possible? Why him? _Why not Robert?_

It didn't matter Sean tried to reassure her. Cesar Faison _did_ survive the tanker explosion off the coast of Venezuela. Cesar Faison _did_ come back to Port Charles for a while, but then he died, in another boat explosion, of all things.

"He's dead, Anna," she heard Sean say, more than once.

"Are you sure this time?" she asked, cynically.

Why was she questioning him? Was there something to make her believe otherwise, Sean wanted to know.

"No…just a memory. Sometimes things come back to me unexpectedly," she lied. Then she listened as he made her promise to tell him the truth if it was more than that.

"That's all it is…I swear." She changed the topic to ask him about Tiffany and his work, and made sure her voice was even and steady as she answered his questions about Robin.

"I know…I promise. I will definitely come and visit when my little girl is here."

"Yes, I do have a name. Leah." She finally managed a smile when he voiced his approval. Speaking to him made her realize how much she missed his friendship, even after all this time.

"I'll talk to you soon…bye."

She hung the phone, her hands still shaking. The fact that Cesar Faison survived the tanker explosion was a revelation that stunned her. 'All this time, I thought that if there was only one good thing that came of that explosion it was that at least Cesar Faison went down in its flames, and now I find out not even that much is true.'

Anna forced her mind to go back to that day in Venezuela.

Her memories came in fragments.

She could smell the bitter, acrid scent of burning oil on the deck that day. She could see the large, red, lettering of the ship's company painted on the smoke stack. And she could see the horrified expression on Robert's face when the flames erupted in front of him.

Some memories came to her with picture-perfect clarity. Others refused to come at all. She couldn't remember what happened before the explosion or what exactly had brought her on to the deck. Nor could she remember what happened in the hours and days after the first flames engulfed them.

In all the news reports and police documents she'd read since then, none of them specified what caused the explosion. Some reports speculated that a careless smoker had thrown a cigarette butt onto an oil drum; others made speculations of a well-timed bomb.

'Why would someone plant a bomb on an aging, rusting tanker?' Anna had asked herself. Faison certainly wouldn't do it while he was still aboard and the WSB, no matter how badly they wanted her dead, wouldn't jeopardize the lives of innocent bystanders with a bomb.

"Maybe I'll never know," she whispered to herself. "Never remember."

She rubbed her temples as she felt the beginnings of another headache, as was the case each time she made her mind go back to that day. "Maybe, it's a sign that you weren't meant to remember."

Not that that stopped her from desperately wanting to. Remember.

Anna took the orchid and crushed it in her hand, throwing the remains into the garbage.

"You're not alive…" she said aloud. "One lousy flower doesn't change that fact."

She repeated the words, willing herself to believe them.

"You're not. You can't be. Cesar Faison, you are dead."

_Seaview Hospital, Pine Valley, PA _

"Do you need a hand with that?" Leticia asked when she saw David Hayward walk down the hospital hallway, awkwardly, with a huge, cardboard box in his arms.

"No, I'm good," he mumbled from behind the box. Only the top of his face was visible.

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

Leticia got up, curious.

"What do you have in there?" she asked, standing on her tiptoes to peek inside.

What she saw widened her eyes in surprise. "It's a cage!"

David set down the box behind the nurse's station and put a finger to his lips. "Shh…not so loud." There were two other doctors in the hallway staring in their direction. Leticia waited until they were out of view before she glanced into the box again.

"What is that in there?" she asked again.

"You told me to find out what might help Melissa's spirits. Well, I asked her and she said she wanted a rabbit."

Leticia gasped and moved her hands to cover her mouth. "You didn't? Oh dear Lord, you've completely lost your mind now."

"I didn't _exactly_…"

Leticia didn't let him finish before she opened the tops of the cardboard box wide enough to see the animal in the cage. What she saw made her laugh. "I hate to break this to you but _that's_ not a bunny…"

"I _know_!"

"She asks for a rabbit and you get her a _guinea pig_?"

"The pet store I went to didn't have any rabbits. I asked them if they had something similar…a hamster or a chinchilla or something, and the lady there tells me that guinea pigs are great pets. She said they're gentle and easier to pet than hamsters. So that's what I got."

Leticia stared at the startled rodent. "Maybe we could glue some bunny ears on it," she suggested.

"Funny."

"But seriously, David? A guinea pig in Melissa's room? Gord would have an absolute fit. It goes against every hospital rule there is." Leticia couldn't believe what she was seeing. "What about the bacteria involved?"

"The risks are minimal…and she's had a rabbit before. There are no allergies."

"Except _that's_ not a rabbit."

"I'm going to bring it to her."

"David…wait!" Leticia tried to warn him as he picked up the cage and headed towards Melissa's room. He didn't listen but kept on walking. "Oh fine…find out for yourself," she muttered under her breath.

When David entered Melissa's room, he noticed the girl wasn't alone.

"Mrs. Cartwright," he announced, feeling his cheeks flood with warmth. He vaguely remembered the woman from their last meeting, nearly a month ago.

She had the same blonde hair and blue eyes Melissa did, combined with the cool, patrician air of old money.

She stood up from the rim of her daughter's bed to greet him.

"Doctor Hayward," she said, holding out a perfectly manicured hand. "I'm so glad you're here after all. That Mexican woman…"

David saw her fishing for the name.

"Leticia Castillo," he finished for her. "Our head nurse."

"Yes, her. She said you weren't working today."

David set down the cardboard box, making sure the top was closed. "I'm, uh…I'm not."

Patsy Cartwright stared at him. "Yet you're here, on your day off, bringing boxes into my daughter's room?"

"It's…it's medical equipment," he explained, averting her gaze.

Melissa gave him a smile. "Hi, David."

"I would like to speak to you alone for a moment," Mrs. Cartwright told him. She turned around to smile at her daughter. "You get some rest now, Melissa."

David noticed how tightly she smiled, a sign of the plastic surgery she obviously had done. In fairness, Patsy Cartwright _was_ a beautiful woman. Yet, like so many women with facelifts, rather than looking ten years younger she ended up looking like a woman _trying_ to look ten years younger. A caricature of the desired appearance. Looking, at her made him hope Anna would never take that route. It also made him remember how much he loved her laugh lines when she smiled.

"Sure," he answered. "We can step into my office to discuss Melissa."

After giving her daughter a kiss on the cheek, Mrs. Cartwright was about to head out of the room when she suddenly stopped in her tracks.

"What's that sound?"

David narrowed his brows. "What sound?"

This time he heard it too. It came from the box. A clearly audible squeak.

"_That_ sound."

David's cheeks reddened. "Oh, _that_ sound. That's…those are...my shoes." He pressed them against the rubber floor tiles. "They're new."

Mrs. Cartwright gave them a skeptical glance. "They don't look new."

David moved towards the door. "Please...step into my office."

"I don't need to go to your office," Mrs. Cartwright told him quietly, once they were outside, in the hospital hallway. "I simply wanted to express my disappointment in your refusal to allow my husband to visit our daughter with the local press. It would have been a wonderful way for the voters of Pennsylvania to catch a glimpse of their Senator's personal life. It's crucial that they see that side of Warren too."

David's earlier unease was suddenly replaced with anger. "Melissa is his _daughter_, not a tool for voter sympathy."

"Pardon me?"

David forced himself to bite his tongue. "I won't allow it because the potential for bacterial infection in her condition is too great to allow a bunch of strangers with cameras to park themselves next to her." He had more pressing things to take care of than to argue with Patsy Cartwright. Namely hiding a squeaking rodent. Surely, if he used Melissa's health as an excuse for his decision, she'd understand, as any mother would.

"I don't understand that, Doctor Hayward. I don't have to wear a gown, gloves and a mask to visit my daughter so the risk can't be that great…"

David looked at her, uncomprehending. "_Any_ risk is too great!"

"I would never risk my daughter's health," Patsy Cartwright pointed out, offended. "But I want you to know my husband donates a large amount of money to Seaview's research fund every year and he was extremely disappointed by your decision."

"I stand by my decision, Mrs. Cartwright. If your husband wishes to discuss it further with me, you know where to…"

She didn't let him finish. "I've said all I wanted to. I'll see you soon Doctor Hayward." With that she turned to leave.

There was no goodbye, no shaking of hands. No mention of Melissa's condition.

'Not _too_ soon, I hope,' he thought bitterly, making his way back into Melissa's room.

"Hey you. You still awake?"

Melissa nodded, yawning.

"How you feeling?"

"Tired."

David noticed there was a new doll next to her pillow. When her mother visited, she often left behind several gifts. Usually it was porcelain dolls with elaborate costumes. Melissa didn't know quite know what to do with them. They weren't the kinds of dolls you held or played with, so David set them on the windowsill for her. Once, when another young heart patient came to visit her, David saw her give two of them away. He wondered whether the gesture was a testament to her generosity or whether she didn't care much for her mother's gifts.

"What did my Mom want to talk about?" she asked.

"You. She's worried about you."

"She didn't say that to me…"

"She's your Mom. She loves you," he said softly._ As much as Anna is going to love our baby_. He cringed when he thought of comparing the woman he loved with Patsy Cartwright. _At least I gave my baby that much_. _I gave our child a wonderful mother._

"I brought you something," he told Melissa, wanting to get off the topic of her mother.

"Yeah, I heard. Medical equipment." She sighed sarcastically. "Great."

"It's not medical equipment," he told her. " I lied."

Melissa's eyes widened, her curiosity piqued at the thought of David Hayward lying to her mother. "You lied? Really? Why?"

"Because what I got you isn't allowed in here..."

Melissa gasped. "Oh my god…oh my god…did you? Did you get me a bunny?" She tried to sit up.

"Slow down," David cautioned her, raising her bed for her. "Just stay put I'll get him."

"Are you for real? Did you really get me a bunny?"

"Not quite…"

Melissa's eyes darkened; instantly disappointed. "Then what?"

David lifted the little animal out of the cage, cupping it in the palm of his hand. The guinea pig was completely brown save for a patch of black fur behind his left ear. His mouth had an upward sweep, giving him a permanent smile, like a dolphin.

"Oh my God!" Melissa squealed. "You got a guinea pig!"

David plopped the animal down on her blanket. "I know it's not a bunny but I hope…"

"I _love_ him!"

David laughed when she picked him up to kiss his nose.

"Oh my God…he's so cute," Melissa beamed, stroking his fur. "Have you touched him, David? He's so soft!" She picked him up again, rubbing his face on her nose. "Aren't you? You are _so_ adorable!"

"So, are you going to give him a name?"

Melissa stared at David. "Is he really mine? Is he really going to stay here in this room?"

"We're going to have to be a little discreet about this," he admitted. "I was thinking we would put his cage under that table and keep the table cloth over it when you know the docs are doing their rounds…"

"And when they're done, you can open it, so I can look at him, and he can look at me!"

"Me or Leticia," he agreed.

"Oh no…"

"What is it?"

Melissa held up the guinea pig and pointed to a wet spot on her blanket. "He peed on the bed!" Melissa giggled.

"Maybe he's nervous about meeting you for the first time," David took the guinea pig from her hands and grabbed a towel that was hanging from the sink. "First meetings are always kind of nerve-wracking. I guess we should keep him on a towel when you pick him up."

Melissa was still giggling. "I think he's excited."

"Very."

"I can't think of a name yet…" she told him.

"That's okay. Take your time. I'm sure he won't mind."

"Thanks so much for him! This is the best gift ever."

"You're welcome."

David let her play with him until she was exhausted.

She was asleep the moment he took the animal from her hands and placed him back in the cage. David made a mental note to change her blanket before he left.

'This is crazy,' he thought, watching her sleep. Leticia was right. Gordon Mackenzie, the Chief of Staff would have his head for bringing an animal into a patient room.

Aside from hiding it, someone would have to clean its cage. Feed it. Leticia would help him out, David was certain of it. She might not like him, but she adored Melissa. Most of the staff did.

He watched her breathe laboriously as she slept, a contented smile on her lips.

'Plus, ' he thought with a smile of his own. 'I now have to remember to bring along some lettuce and carrot on my rounds.'

_Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of Congo, Africa_

Sandrine Mutanga observed him brooding in his office. His lips had the same thin, annoyed line they always did when he contemplated something that irritated him.

"What are you thinking?" she asked him.

"Nothing," Robert Scorpio answered gruffly.

"It doesn't look like you are thinking of nothing."

"Don't bug me," he said, but as he said it, his lips lifted into a smile.

Sandrine smirked. "You are such a grouch. It's a wonder any woman could ever put up with you."

He grabbed her arm, chuckling. Pulling her closer to him.

His touch excited her. It always did. It had been such a long time since they made love and Sandrine missed it. She missed it so much, she wanted to tell him so, and then promptly seduce him. Right here and right now, on his desk. But she didn't. Sandrine wanted him to want her, as much as she wanted him. She wouldn't make love to him again, until he did. Not ever, if need be.

She would protect him. She would keep his secrets and lie to her superiors to keep him and Anna and Robin safe. Sandrine would even give up her life for him, but she wouldn't give in to him again. Not until he loved her as much as she loved him.

'What a unbearable thought,' she thought with a shiver. To never lie in his arms again. She thought that after finding out about Anna and Robin her feelings towards him would change, that he'd become somehow unattainable. As if the fact that he was nearly twenty years her senior, and white, didn't make him unattainable enough, in her father's eyes anyway.

Instead, it only made her love him more.

He was giving up his entire life for his wife and daughter. Everything he did was to keep them from harm. Sandrine couldn't think of a greater act of love.

Yes, Roger Saunders, or _Robert Scorpio_, was an inconsolable grouch and he could be an absolute bastard to those he didn't like. But at the same time he was capable of so much love.

'Maybe one day, you'll love me that much,' she thought. She liked the way his blue eyes lit up when he looked at her. 'Maybe you already do.'

"I was thinking that I'm off two weeks over Christmas and I have no place to go. There's a resort in Kenya that I had my heart set on and now I find out they're fully booked."

"Spend Christmas with me and my family."

Robert laughed. "You want to be disowned over the holidays?"

"My father already knows you. He likes you."

"As your boss and your partner. Not as your lover. He'd have my head."

Sandrine smiled. "Maybe you are right. But you like excitement, _non_?"

Robert laughed. "Not that kind."

Sandrine was pleased that she was able to change his mood with such ease now. She enjoyed the challenge.

"Why don't you come away with me, for Christmas? Tell your father it's a last minute assignment."

Sandrine felt a rush of adrenaline flow through her. It was the first time in a long time that he mentioned wanting her with him.

'You have no reason to be jealous of Anna,' she told herself, staring into his mischievous blue eyes. 'Anna is the past and I'm the present.' In fact, Robert wouldn't ever see Anna or Robin again. That was the deal, after all.

Unless Cesar Faison threatened them.

'He won't,' Sandrine thought. 'If he knows Robert at all, he knows harming them would be suicidal.' In which case Sandrine had no reason to hold back. She certainly couldn't think of a better way of spending the hot, humid Christmas, than lying in his arms at a beach resort in Kenya or South Africa, away from the increasing chaos of her homeland.

"I can't," she said instead, kissing his cheek. "With the escalating tensions and the French troops arriving soon, I feel an obligation to be there with my family. I'm frightened at how bad things have gotten, even here in Kinshasa."

Robert nodded. "You're right…"

The increased fighting in the civil war had been looming in the backs of both their minds for weeks now. It could easily mean that Sandrine's family would attempt to flee the country in the near future or that the WSB would leave the Congo altogether, taking Robert with them in the process.

Sandrine couldn't help a twinge of pleasure when she saw the disappointment in his eyes. _I think you do love me and one day you might even admit it to both of us._

"Will you at least let me take you out for dinner then?" he asked her.

Sandrine smiled. "I might."

_Andrassy Estate, Vadsel, Hungary_

Alex grabbed the box of matches that sat on the old, oak table and lit the two candles in front of her. The she rubbed her hands together on top of the flame.

"You are cold?" Andrei asked her. She wore a thick, black turtleneck but it didn't seem to help.

"It is freezing in here, don't you think?"

The rooms at the estate were old and large, most of them had thick stone, walls beneath the wood panelling and in the winter months it took an enormous amount of heating to keep them moderately warm.

"Then it is better we stop, if you are too cold," he pointed out.

Alex chuckled. "Nice try."

Christmas exams were around the corner and Andrei knew he was on the verge of failing his science class. Unfortunately, Alex was aware of it too and had spent the past month trying to stave off that reality.

He watched her adjust her glasses and pick up the hardcover biology text again, stifling a yawn. "Let's try another one…tell me the difference between mitotic and meiotic cell division?"

Andrei's eyes focused. "I know this one," he told her.

"Good."

"It is…mitotic is when things go through the skin of the cell."

Alex cringed. "The _membrane," _she corrected him. "You're thinking of osmosis."

"No, mitosis."

"Mitosis occurs with only one cell division, meiosis requires two."

The way she said it made it sound like the most obvious thing in the world. When really it wasn't.

"Mitosis, one. Meiosis two. Easy enough, isn't it?"

"Mitosis one, meiosis two," he repeated after her, hoping he was at least saying the words right. He didn't want her to think he was a complete idiot.

"And what kind of cells do you get with mitosis?"

"Diphthong," he said, with a smile, knowing with certainty that for once he got it right.

When he saw Alex making an effort to keep from laughing, his heart sank.

"_Diploid_ cells," she corrected him. She offered him a lopsided smile. "Hey…that was pretty close. Maybe we shouldn't have spent an hour on English grammar before tackling biology."

He plopped his head down on the table, dejected. "I'm never going to know this. Never."

Alex massaged his shoulder. "You will," she told him. "Maybe not tonight, but eventually."

He raised his head, noticing that her hand still rested on his shoulder. She often did that. Touch him. Being touched wasn't something he was used to. He couldn't remember when the women at the orphanage last touched him, other than to smack him behind the ears.

But Alex was often resting her hand on his arm, or running her fingers through his hair.

At first he found it odd, but now he no longer minded. It made him feel less like a nothing every day.

More than her touch, he liked her company. He liked the way he felt when she was around him. She made him feel like a somebody. Somebody who was worth spending time with. It was a feeling that he couldn't put into words. In fact, he liked her enough that he was willing to put up with the endless homework she made him do, if at least it meant he'd be doing it in her company.

He would miss her, he decided, if she'd let him do what he so desperately wanted to.

Andrei was neither shy nor afraid. But _this_, this meant so incredibly much to him; it had made it nearly impossible to ask. What if Alex said no? Or worse, what if Dimitri did? Andrei knew that Dimitri still hadn't entirely forgiven him for what he did on the evening of that big gala dinner.

"Shall we call it a night?" he vaguely heard her ask.

Andrei nodded, relieved to finally escape from this surreal world of cells and cytokines. "I want to go to the stables. I want to see Tempus one more time, before I go to bed."

"Fresh air is a good idea," Alex agreed. "Do you mind if I join you?"

Andrei shook his head. "No." It was a silly question. He'd never mind having her around.

As they went downstairs, he watched her grab a coat from the closet and toss another one to him. It wasn't his coat, but Dimitri's.

"I've had Marina bring yours to the dry cleaner," she explained. "I think there was more dirt on it than fabric."

Andrei said nothing as he took Dimitri's coat. It smelled of cigars and cologne, and, even though it was several sizes too big, he loved the way it felt on him. He wondered if he'd ever be able to walk into a room and command the kind of attention Dimitri Marick did so effortlessly.

'Maybe if I grow another two feet,' he thought ruefully.

Andrei had never met anyone quite like Dimitri. Contrary to his first impression of him at the orphanage, he now knew Dimitri Marick wasn't an idiot. Impulsive maybe, but definitely not an idiot. If he were, Andrei knew that Alex probably wouldn't love him as much as she did. That people wouldn't look at him the way they did.

'One day, I'll know as much about horses as he does,' Andrei decided as he buttoned up Dimitri's coat. It was thick and heavy. 'And one day, I'll have a girlfriend who looks at me, the way Alex looks at Dimitri.'

They were such crazy thoughts. Thoughts he would never have dared to think a few months ago.

He grabbed two flashlights from the armoire and handed one to Alex.

"Thanks," he heard Alex say. He could see her breath in the night air, as they stepped outside.

Patches of snow clung to the hilly countryside and an ominous blanket of black clouds darkened the night sky, threatening them with another snow fall tonight. According to Dimitri, it was an unusually cold December this year.

They walked to the stables in silence. Andrei waited until he spotted Tempus Fugit, before taking a deep breath and finally deciding he had to ask her. It was now or never. Being in the presence of the animal he adored would make it easier.

He saw Alex move up to the horse, stroking its long, black neck. "Hey, baby…how's it going?"

"Alex, I have to ask you something…" Andrei started.

Alex turned to him. "Sure."

"Next week when Tempus is going to England. I want to go too."

Alex turned around. "What?"

"I want to be a jockey and I want to race him. I want to learn how to ride him like you do and then better." Andrei felt his knees tremble as he spoke the words. What if she said no? What if Alex had no idea how much this meant to him? How much he loved that horse.

"Andrei, you only just came here! You have school now. You can't just take off to England to ride horses. We've already kept Tempus at Vadsel so much longer than we intended…"

Andrei knew what she had to be thinking. That he was saying this in an attempt to have her keep the horse here longer still. She had already persuaded Dimitri to leave him here almost two months longer than was the plan, because Alex knew how much he loved to ride Tempus. She knew that he spent every free minute riding him and grooming him. But Andrei wanted her to know he wouldn't be that selfish. He didn't know much about horses, but he knew enough to know that Tempus Fugit wasn't the kind of horse one kept around to ride in the countryside. Tempus was meant to race.

"I don't want you to keep him here. I want to go _with_ him," he repeated.

Alex frowned. "No…no, that's crazy, Andrei! If you went to England with him, how would you finish your schooling? Do you have any idea how hard it is to be a jockey?"

"I don't care if it's hard. I'm not scared, Alex."

He watched her shake her head. "No, I won't let you go. I'm sorry."

Andrei noticed not only his knees but also his hands were shaking now. If he couldn't even convince Alex, he knew he didn't stand a chance with Dimitri. "You don't think I can learn to ride that good? You don't think I'm good enough to ride Tempus?" Andrei closed his eyes as he waited for her answer. If that were the reason she wouldn't let him go, he would respect it. He would hate it, but he'd still respect it, because she knew the horses so much better than he did.

Alex moved away from the horse, towards Andrei, putting her hand on his shoulder again. "No…that's not it. Not at all."

"Then why? Because of school? They don't have schools in England?"

She gave him another lopsided smile. "No, not only because of school."

"Because it's too hard?"

"No, not because of that either. You have a gift for riding, Andrei. " She stood next to him now, a full head taller almost, her long, thick hair touching his face. "It's because…" He thought she was embarrassed for the first time. "Because if you left to live at Epsom or Ascot, I'd really miss you."

Andrei felt his heart skip a beat. She said he had a gift for riding. She might as well have paid him the greatest compliment of his life.

He wrapped his arms around her, realizing a split second later what a crazy gesture that was. He'd never hugged anyone before. "I will miss you too," he admitted.

She returned his hug and Andrei thought he saw tears in her eyes. "If…if Dimitri agrees with this and if we can get you a tutor there…"

"Yes?"

"Then not until after Christmas, okay?"

Andrei smiled. Suddenly her initial 'no' didn't seem so final. The reason she gave him left him feeling light-headed and giddy. Who would have thought that someone would one day miss him? Him. Andrei Ionescu. Troublemaker.

"Okay," he agreed, grinning. "After Christmas."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

_Scotland Yard, European Sector Headquarters, Paris, France_

Anna Devane stared at the computer screen in front of her and absentmindedly rubbed her temple with her free hand. The headache had been bothering for almost a week now.

Since the day she found out Cesar Faison was alive.

There were other signs after the orchid. Unsigned notes in the mail. Notes that said as little as "_Missing you" _and "_Soon"_. Some were in English, others in French, some in Latin even.

Cesar Faison loved being an enigma. He liked puzzles and games. He _needed_ to be figured out. Unravelled.

One morning she'd found an orchid sitting on her desk. Then there was an e-mail in her inbox, traceable only to an Internet café in Paris. Then, one day there was a diamond baby bracelet in her mail box, with the note, "A gift for the arrival of your new joy." Unsigned, of course. Always unsigned. Her skilled eye told her the diamond bracelet was outrageously expensive. The cut of the stones had been exquisite.

Anna had tossed it to a panhandler sitting by a Metro entrance.

"As if I needed your signature," she whispered to herself, still staring at the screen. "You couldn't sign it more clearly than if you inked your fingerprints over everything."

Because she had the resources of both Interpol and Scotland Yard, in addition to the databases of nearly every global law enforcement agency, at her fingertips, finding details about Faison's activities was not nearly as difficult as it would have been otherwise.

She searched endless hours for every possible alias that sprang to her mind and her search took her through money laundering operations, gambling and casino frauds as well as illegal trade in precious gems and diamonds. Anything and everything that involved moving priceless objets d'art and other high end collectibles within Europe made her look for tell-tale clues that would indicate a sign of Cesar Faison's involvement.

After a month of dead ends, Anna almost believed that maybe Sean was right. Maybe Cesar Faison _was_ dead; perhaps it was some sadistic relative of his that was sending her notes and orchids in his place.

She nearly believed it until one name kept coming up in all her research.

Jan Holstrom.

The further Anna dug, the more the mystery of Jan Holstrom intrigued her. Holstrom was born in Sweden, in the mid-fifties, to a teacher and a housewife. He studied finance at the University of Stockholm and later became an accountant. After that…nothing. Anna could trace nothing else back to him. Not a job, not a spouse or partner, nor a place of residence. The only thing she knew was that his name had a habit of turning up in countless questionable transactions, alongside an endless list of names and corporations.

Jean-Luc Demarais. Markus Mittermeier. Nils Janssen. Igor Petrenko.

"Aliases," Anna confirmed with further research. "All of the men linked to Jan Holstrom's investments are aliases. Men who are phenomenally good at covering their tracks." She was certain the aliases weren't for a multitude of men, but for one man alone. For Cesar Faison.

"You _are_ very much alive, Cesar Faison. And once my little girl is born…I'll lure you out of the hole you're hiding in and I'll…"

"Are you burning the midnight oil again, Devane? Talking to yourself while you're at it?" she heard a voice ask, behind her back.

Anna didn't have to turn around to recognize the voice of Dan O'Toole, another expat working out of Paris. His voice had a smooth, Irish lilt and despite his inherent nosiness, Anna liked him.

"Just doing some personal research," she told him, unaware that she'd voiced her thoughts aloud.

"You've been doing a lot of after hours research lately."

"It's important."

O'Toole leaned against her desk, loosening his tie. "Aren't you going to have a baby any minute? Don't you have things that are more important on your mind?"

Anna smiled. "Any minute? Leah's not due for another two weeks."

O'Toole laughed. "That _is_ any minute. Babies don't like to be on schedule."

"Ah…but this is _my_ baby," Anna smirked. "She'll have to learn early to do things my way."

O'Toole sighed. "Right. What was I thinking?"

Dan O'Toole liked her, even though he'd never said as much. He didn't need to. Anna could tell just by the way he looked at her. She could also tell from the questions he asked her. He often asked about Robin and sometimes about the baby's father, questions which Anna might not have been as tight lipped about if she wasn't consumed by Cesar Faison. Dan O'Toole, with his Irish charm, his gentle concern and his quiet, steady calm was someone she might have enjoyed getting to know better.

But she didn't exactly have time for a man in her life right now. Or even a friend.

"You look tired, Devane. How about heading home?"

Anna's eyes turned away from him and back to the computer screen in front of her. "I am," she agreed. "Being nine months pregnant is tiring. You should try it sometime." She ran a hand over her swollen belly, feeling that same uncomfortable sensation she did a few minutes ago.

O'Toole laughed. "Thanks, but no thanks. That stuff's meant for the stronger sex."

Anan sighed, too tired to think of a witty reply.

"I guess I'll I see you tomorrow, Devane."

"Uh huh…" She turned around to say good-bye when she suddenly felt a rush of warmth. A wetness all over her chair. _Oh God, it wasn't possible was it? __Did her water just break?_

"Devane? You okay?"

Anna grasped his arm, squeezing it hard, and shook her head. "No…I think you might be right."

"About what?"

"About babies and schedules."

O'Toole gave her a look of disbelief, "What are you saying?"

Anna's clenched her fist. "My little girl…I think she's ready… now."

"Oh dear…" O'Toole ran a nervous hand through his red hair. "You mean right now?"

"Yeah, _now_."

_Seaview Hospital, Pine Valley, PA _

David scooped up the guinea pig from Melissa's lap, ready to put him back into his cage.

He wrinkled his nose when he looked at the animal. "You're getting so fat, Ruben." Melissa had named the guinea pig after a singer on some TV reality show David had never heard of. Instead of a singer, the name always made him think of a deli sandwich.

"Leticia feeds him a lot," Melissa explained.

"Like what? Twinkies?"

Melissa laughed, her breathing heavy and raspy. "No…carrots and lettuce."

"Maybe she should stop," David pointed out.

"Ruben isn't fat. He's just growing. Don't be angry."

"I'm not angry."

"Yeah, you are. You've been grouchy since you came into my room."

David frowned. She was right. He'd been snapping at everyone and everything for days now. Granted, most people deserved it, but not Melissa. He gave her an apologetic glance and said nothing.

"Do you have kids?" she asked, out of the blue.

David nodded. She might as well have pinpointed the very reason for his recent moods, with her usual, uncanny, psychic precision.

Anna was due any day now. His only child was coming into the world and he wouldn't be there for the occasion.

Melissa's face lit up with a smile. "That's funny. You don't look like a dad. So what do you have a boy or a girl? Or both?"

David felt a sudden, heavy ache in his heart.

"I don't know…"

Melissa gave him a puzzled look. "How can you not know whether you have a boy or girl? That's the weirdest thing I ever heard."

"I just don't." What was it about Melissa Cartwright that could push his buttons like no one else? Well, _almost_ no one else.

"I guess you sleep with a lot of different women, huh?"

David looked at her aghast. _How _old was she again? "No, that's not why."

"Then how come?"

David sat down on the rim of her bed. "My wife, Anna, left me when when she was pregnant. I don't know whether she's having a boy or girl."

Melissa's expression turned sad. "Oh…I'm sorry." She paused, trying to make sense of what he had told her. "Don't you ever call or write her or something? Can't you ask?"

"I wish it were that simple."

"Why did she leave you?"

"Lots of reasons."

"I bet they were dumb reasons," Melissa pointed out, defending her friend.

David shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe some of them. Not all."

"Do you still love her?"

The directness of her questions unnerved him. They flew at him like darts, too quick for him to make up facetious answers.

" I do, yes. I love her very much."

"So, can't you tell her that?" she asked, frustrated at how adults always had a way of making everything so terribly complicated, when really it wasn't. "Maybe you wouldn't be so grouchy if she was around."

"No, I can't just tell her that. Believe it or not, it takes more than love to make a marriage work."

"Like what?"

"Trust, honesty…all sorts of things."

"You didn't have those things?"

"No. We didn't."

David watched her sigh, tiring before his eyes from the efforts of their conversation. "Leticia's gonna come in here and give you your meds tonight. I think you should call it a night, ."

"Can you tell me about her?" Melissa pleaded.

"Tell you about who?"

"Anna."

"You're tired, Melissa and I don't think…"

"I bet she's beautiful."

David's eyes darkened. "Why do you say that?"

Melissa paused, taking in as deep a breath as her lungs allowed. "She'd have to be beautiful to be your wife, 'cause you're really picky."

"She _is_ beautiful…here," David said quietly, placing a flat palm on top of Melissa's ailing heart. "Anna has a beautiful heart and a smile that can light up a room."

Melissa smiled at his unexpected definition of beauty. "Does she know you still love her?"

David shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not sure."

Melissa sighed. "Geez…you have to tell her!"

"Sometimes things turn out for the best. I think Anna's probably better off without me."

"Are _you_ better off without her?"

David said nothing. He used to think marriage was a phoney, contrived convention designed to make lesser mortals miserable. It certainly wasn't something he ever planned to partake in. Now he would have given an arm and leg, if it meant he could have his wife and child back in his life. _How quickly things change._

"If I die, will you promise me that you'll tell her?"

David frowned, taken aback by the morbid request. "You're not going to die, Melissa. I'll make sure of it."

Her face was serious, sincere. "But _if_ I do…will you promise me?"

"Melissa, I don't want you to talk like…"

Her eyes squinted, trying to keep them open, yet at the same time he could see the irritation that shone through them. "Can't you just promise me? What's the big deal?"

"_Why_? Why would you want me to make you a crazy promise like that?"

" 'Cause you've been so nice to me and I want her to see that too. I want her to love you, so you can be a dad. Because I think you _should_ be."

David swallowed, unable to say anything.

"Well?"

"Melissa…"

"If you say you're not gonna let me die, then you don't have to worry about keeping the promise, right?"

"Fine...I promise." He said it quickly, hoping it would placate her.

"Say it like you mean it," she pressed.

"I'm sure Anna knows that I love her, Melissa! Me saying it won't change…"

Melissa rolled her eyes. "Adults are always so sure about everything."

David brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Listen, Melissa. You're tired. Fine. I promise you, I'll tell Anna, and I'll do everything in my power to get her and my baby back, but in exchange, you have to get some rest now."

She closed her eyes, smiling. "Was that so hard?"

"You're a pest," David sighed, covering her with the blanket and taking a final glance at the machine that was monitoring her heartbeat.

She was asleep before he left the room.

When he stepped into the hospital's hallway he saw Leticia hurry towards him.

"I was just about to page you," she told him, breathlessly. "Dr. Rankin called less than a minute ago, from the UC Cardiac Center. He's got a match for us."

David felt a surge of energy. "A heart for Melissa?"

Leticia nodded excitedly. "It'll be flown in as soon as he has your okay."

"Get him on the phone and let's do it. Let's prep Melissa."

_Paris, France_

Faison tenderly held the package in his hands as though it might break should he grasp it too tightly.

"It's here," he told Jan.

"What is?"

"What I've been asking Dr. Savigneau to work on. It arrived just now, hand delivered from Marseilles by one of his assistants."

Jan frowned. The topic of Anna Devane had been absent from their conversation for the last few days, and he hadn't missed it. The arrival of this mysterious package would undoubtedly change that.

"Now all I need is a test subject."

Jan's eyes widened in sudden fear, making Faison laugh.

"Not you, my friend."

"You've never told me what you asked Dr. Savigneau to do for you."

Faison ran his fingers over the package, tearing off its seals with his fingernails. "I asked him to create a little something for me."

"What exactly?"

Faison pulled two vials out of the insulated package. He held up the first vial. "I asked for a problem." He smiled, holding up the second vial, "And then for its solution. Simple enough, isn't it?"

Jan didn't understand and he told his boss as much.

"A virus," Faison clarified. "He created a virus for me. Completely unique and nearly impossible to identify. Then he created its cure."

Jan felt a shiver run down his spine. "Is it fatal?"

"Without administration of the cure… yes."

"You're going to inject Anna, and then offer to cure her? For a price?"

Faison frowned. "No…not Anna."

"Then who?"

"Her baby." Faison paused, smiling. "A mother's love is the strongest force in the world, Jan." His smile deepened. "I know there is nothing Anna won't do for her children."

_Hotel Dieu Hospital, Paris, France _

_Later_

Robin Scorpio sipped her coffee, noticing it was already lukewarm although she must have poured it into the cup only minutes earlier. For once she wished the French were less environmentally inclined and not quite so adverse to the use of Styrofoam containers. Occasions like childbirth warranted hot coffee.

She put the recycled paper cup down on the table in front of her, on top of a dog-eared women's fashion magazine, and glanced at the only other person in the waiting room. A man with red hair peppered with white, and thin, wire-rimmed glasses.

She hadn't known Dan O'Toole existed until last night, when he'd called her at home and said he was taking her mother to the nearest hospital. Now almost twenty-four hours later, she still didn't know much more other than that he worked with her mother, for Scotland Yard or Interpol, Robin wasn't entirely sure. She did figure that his affection for her mother went beyond that of an ordinary co-worker. If it didn't, he wouldn't have come back to the hospital after work to check on her mother and wait alongside Robin, for the arrival of her little sister.

Given the slow, painful progress of her mother's labour, that arrival could easily be much later than anticipated.

Like everything else about her mother's pregnancy, her labour was proving to be difficult. Robin had spent the last two hours with her mother, watching her struggle as the contractions worsened. Watching her mother in pain left her as drained as if she were giving birth herself. Almost.

"If you like, I can give you a call when the baby gets here," Robin offered O'Toole, who was also sipping black liquid from a recycled paper cup.

"No…it's okay. I don't mind hanging around for a little longer."

"You've been here for a while. You must be tired."

"I'm fine." He stood up to stretch himself. "How's your Mom?"

"She's exhausted."

"I bet."

Robin sighed. "Mom's tough. But I worry, that after everything, this pregnancy… it's all too much for her."

O'Toole looked at her, a hint of concern in his face. "What do you mean, 'after everything'?"

Robin cringed. How much would her mother have told her co-workers about her personal life? _Not much, I bet_. There was little her mother hated more than pity. "It's been a difficult pregnancy for my Mom, that's all I meant to say…"

"Difficult how?"

The man was nosy, Robin decided. But the nosiness seemed motivated by genuine interest and concern rather than just curiosity. Dan O'Toole reminded her a little of Sean. "Just, difficult," she shrugged. "Extended morning sickness, headaches and my Mom, she didn't want to jeopardize the baby in any way, so she refused to take anything to make life easier for her. Then when I was sick, she put so much energy into helping me get better, sometimes I wonder if she kept any for herself." Robin frowned, "And lately I get the feeling something else has been bugging her. Something she won't tell me about…"

"She's been spending a lot of time after work recently, using our global databases to do some personal research," O'Toole told her.

So it was true then, Robin decided. There was definitely something going on in her mother's life that she wasn't sharing with anyone. 'Guess, I'll have to try and drag it out of you somehow,' she thought.

"What about the father?"

"Huh?" Robin looked at him, lost in thought.

"The _baby's_ father?"

"Oh…David Hayward. Honestly, I've never met him. He's a cardiologist who worked in Pine Valley, where Mom was Police Chief, before coming here."

"Why isn't he here?" O'Toole asked her, and Robin could have sworn she saw a trace of indignation in his face.

'You're _definitely_ a lot like Sean,' she thought with a smile. "In fairness, Mom left him and he wanted her to stay, but he also did a lot of awful things to her that made her leave."

Robin knew her mother would probably hate it if she heard her divulging all this to her co-worker. 'Then again,' Robin thought. 'This guy seems pretty sincere, and maybe having someone keep an eye on you at work isn't such a bad idea.'

"So the baby's father is still in America?"

Robin nodded, "He is." There was a part of her that was as curious as Dan O'Toole to meet the man her mother had chosen to marry, have a child with and then suddenly divorce and flee. A man she spoke of only on rare occasions. Even so, Robin sensed that her mother missed him, more than she'd ever admit.

'I wonder what you're like in person, David Hayward,' Robin pondered. She had heard of his name in medical journals, where there were mentions of his unparalleled precision in the operating room, and the medical student in her would have been flattered to spend an afternoon observing him in surgery. 'Funny, I never would have pictured Mom with a doctor…cops and robbers are more her type.'

Her thoughts were interrupted when a doctor emerged from her mother's room, near the end of the hospital hallway.

The doctor was smiling. _"Elle est arrivee!" _she announced.

Robin set down her coffee cup, uncomprehending. _"Qui est arrivee?"_

"_Votre petite soeur!"_

"Mom delivered her? Leah's here? Oh my God…" She excitedly looked at O'Toole standing next to her, then back to the doctor, "May I…_je peux aller la voir?"_

"_Mais oui, bien sur!"_

Robin felt her heart skip a beat. Her little sister was here. She turned to O'Toole. "Well…you've waited here so long with me, why don't you come on in and see her too?"

"You don't think your mother would mind?"

Robin gave him a push. "Oh…just come. I can't wait to see her."

"No, you go ahead. I'll wait until your Mom says it's alright."

Robin smiled. He _was_ a good guy.

She walked into her mother's room, her face lighting up into a giant grin when she saw the tiny figure, lying in a bassinette next to her mother's bed.

"Mom…what happened? They didn't expect her for another few hours…"

"I got _really_ tired of pushing."

Robin bent down to kiss her mother's cheek. She looked exhausted. Her long hair was draped in perspiration.

"You did an awesome job, Mom. Are you okay?"

Anna managed a smile. "I'm glad she's finally here...and healthy."

Robin turned around to stare at her sister. She was so tiny it made her want to take her in her arms and keep her warm and safe.

Her hand caressed the soft cheek of the baby's red skin, marvelling at its texture. "Mom…she's so beautiful." Robin couldn't help but laugh at the tuft of black hair on the baby's head. "And look at her hair! It's so dark."

Anna grinned. "That's David…I guess she has to have something from him too."

Robin laughed, unable to take her eyes off the baby. "She looks like you otherwise, doesn't she?" She had seen her share of newborns doing volunteer work at hospitals. Each of them were a tiny miracle, but this one was different. This baby was more than a miracle; she was her little sister. Her _family_.

"Can I hold her, Mom?"

Anna nodded, reaching over to the bassinette.

Robin picked up the baby, grinning when she contorted her face. "I think she likes me." She cupped Leah's little fists into her hands, awed at their tiny perfection.

"So she should, you're her big sis."

Robin gently handed the baby over to her. "Leah meet Mom…she's going to drive you crazy for the next twenty years."

"That's it?" Anna smirked. "Just twenty?"

Robin looked at her mother with a newfound respect. "That, and love you," she told her sister. "Mom's going to love you so much and with that love you're going to be able to face whatever challenges life brings you."

She watched her mother kiss the top of the baby's head.

"For once your big sister is right. You have no idea how much I love you, my little miracle." A smile crept into Anna's lips, as she noticed that the baby didn't have her eyes, but David's. Two beautiful, jet-black orbs reminding her that Leah was his too. "He'd love you so much if he saw you today..." she mumbled.

Robin didn't have to guess what she was thinking. "No crying today, Mom."

"Happy tears," her mother insisted.

"Oh no...you know what? I forgot about Dan!" Robin exclaimed.

"O'Toole is here?" Anna asked.

"He came back...he wanted to make sure you're okay. He's outside...are you alright if he comes in to see Leah?"

"Yes, sure…I don't think I've even thanked him, for driving me here."

Robin was barely back in the waiting room, when her vision was blocked by half a dozen pink balloons.

The sight made Robin laugh. "Come on...come inside."

Dan O'Toole entered the room, trailing the pink balloons. "I saw these at the gift shop downstairs. I couldn't resist, since I have the honour of being the only one from the office here for the occasion. Congratulations, Devane."

Robin was still grinning at the sight. _Definitely_ _a good guy._ "I don't suppose you left any balloons for anyone else who might be having a girl today?"

"No," he laughed. "It's not my fault they only had six." He took a look at the baby in Anna's arms and smiled. "I didn't think they came this cute, Devane."

Anna blushed. "Thanks, O'Toole...for that and the balloons," she said softly. "This whole day has been a lot different than I thought it would. Nine months ago I didn't think I'd be doing this here...in Paris. But..." she glanced over at Leah, "I'm glad I am." She stifled a yawn. "I could really use a nap now."

Robin laughed. "You should, Mom. You might not get too many from now on."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

**-**

_Paris, France_

_Four months later_

Anna pulled the curtain aside, to watch her daughter slowly disappear from her view on the street below.

She stood there for several minutes, checking the time on her silver Raymond Weil watch, before closing the curtain and turning away from the window. She walked towards the baby's room, a smile spreading on her face when she saw her other daughter sleeping peacefully.

'You're just like your sister was when she was a baby. You look like a little angel,' she thought. 'When you're asleep that is.'

Her smile faded when she saw the half dozen unpacked boxes next to the baby's crib. She had moved into her apartment with Leah almost two months ago and she still hadn't gotten around to really unpacking. Aside from a music wheel atop the crib and a host of toys and stuffed animals lying on a nearby dresser, the room didn't have the feel of a nursery yet. Anna had visions of colourful wallpaper and a thick, warm carpet neither of which had yet come into fruition.

'Because you're too preoccupied with other matters,' she chided herself. Matters such as Cesar Faison.

A shiver ran down her spine when she remembered the trip to her favourite bakery yesterday.

The owner knew her by name. Knew that, unlike most of his customers, she preferred a hardy, multi-grain bread rather than the baguettes he sold like hot cakes. He also knew that she loved his custard pastries, topped with fresh, seasonal fruit. Sometimes, he even surprised Anna by putting aside a loaf of bread or his latest pastry creations for her. For no other reason than the fact that he liked how much she enjoyed them.

When she offered to pay for her purchases yesterday he'd promptly turned her down.

"_C'est pas necessaire aujourd'hui, Madame Devane_," he had told her with a smile. "_Votre ami a deja paye."_

A friend of hers had already paid? _"Qui?" _

"_Il m'a pas donne son nom,"_ the baker explained. _"Mais…il a laisse quelque_ _chose pour vous."_

Someone had already paid for her purchases. He hadn't left his name but he had left something else for her. An orchid, sitting on top of a pastry box.

Anna remembered her nausea when she saw it, opening the pastry box with dread. Tucked inside were her favourites; the custard tarts, topped with fresh apricots. She also remembered rushing out of the bakery, without looking back, or taking along the things she was going to pay for.

She would never go back there.

Anna forced her mind back to the present, aware now of the pounding in her head. She closed her eyes and pressed a hand against her forehead, hating the way she felt. Her increased headaches was something she had no desire to deal with. Not now. Yet at the same time she knew she'd have to consult Alex about them sooner rather than later. More than the pain, it was the fear of seizures that brought her that realization.

When she first regained her memory and moved to Pine Valley, her headaches were accompanied by seizures and high fevers, and according to Alex there was always the possibility of a recurrence of both, given the precarious nature of the injuries she sustained during the boat explosion.

"I can't really hunt you down and kill you if I black out in the process, can I?" she asked herself, frustrated. "Why can't anything ever be simple?"

She spotted a nearly empty container of aspirin on the wall unit and poured two pills into the palm of her hand. She'd been taking too many lately, making her almost grateful she wasn't breastfeeding.

She moved into the kitchen to pour some water from the sink into a glass and swallowed them, checking her watch once more. It was almost ten minutes since Robin left for the Sorbonne. The chances of her heading back to the apartment because she accidentally forgot something were slim.

With that knowledge Anna walked towards the wall unit and opened the bottom cabinet. Behind a thick French dictionary was a small safe.

She keyed in the combination and opened it, pulling out a shiny, black, semi-automatic. It had been in her possession for less than a week. Obtaining it had been a bureaucratic hassle, exactly what Anna had expected from the French.

Legally, because of her position with Scotland Yard and its close liaison with Interpol, she was entitled to own and carry a concealed weapon, but the fact that she was no longer a field agent complicated matters. It required filling out more forms than she could have imagined, as well as a two-month wait for final approval, because she didn't hold French citizenship. Yet now that she held both the weapon and its license in her hand, Anna was pleased with her choice. It was a brand new .40 calibre Glock 35, capable of a law enforcement-modified 15 rounds.

In short, it was a heavy, powerful weapon that few women would have chosen when picking out a handgun.

'You better shoot first and aim well when I find you, or else you won't stand a chance,' Anna thought as she examined the weapon. 'And knowing you, you won't.'

Anna ran a hand alongside her temple as her headache reminded her what an insane plan she was concocting.

"I'm not going to let you terrorize me like you once did. I won't live in fear," she whispered aloud, sitting down on the ground and leaning against the armrest of her sofa. "Not now. Not with Leah in my life. I won't let your twisted games threaten my little girl."

The plan might be crazy, but it was also inherently simple.

Find Cesar Faison. Then kill him.

Anna closed her eyes, wishing the pounding underneath her forehead would subside. The headaches did that sometimes. They increased with a sudden ferocity that took her breath away, only to lessen again minutes later. When it happened as it did now, it made her nauseous and blurred her vision. All she could do was close her eyes and let it wash over her, hoping it wouldn't last.

A sudden pounding on the door of her apartment made her grimace.

She opened her eyes, staring at the door.

'Oh God,' she thought, glancing at the Glock in her lap. 'Robin's forgotten something. She's come back.'

She stood up and attempted to put the semi back into the safe, cursing that her blurred vision made it impossible to see the numbers on the lock. "Oh hell…" She stuffed the Glock behind the French dictionary, hiding it from view.

If Robin simply forgot something, she'd be in and out of the apartment in a matter of seconds.

There was a second knock on the door and Anna jumped to answer it.

"Let me guess, you forgot your keys…" she mumbled as she opened it.

Her mouth dropped open when she saw that it wasn't Robin who stood outside.

"Oh my God…"

"Surprise!" The familiar, handsome man beamed at her.

"Sean!" Anna swung her arms around him in an instant embrace. "What in the world are you doing here?"

He kissed her cheek, his smile broadening. "I missed my best friend."

Anna hit him on the chest, wiping away an emotional tear with her other hand. "You could have called and let me know! So I could maybe put on something other than jeans and a t-shirt for you."

Sean laughed. "I wanted to surprise you, and I was getting impatient about seeing your little girl. Not Robin…the other one. I don't care if you're wearing a rag, it's you I want to see. Besides, I was afraid if I called ahead you might try and prepare some food for me…"

"Funny." Anna hooked her arm into his. "Come on in, please sit down." She hugged him again, not realizing until now how much she had missed his presence in her life. His warmth coupled with his unflappable calm and easy humour.

No matter how bad things got, if Sean Donely was around, they always seemed manageable.

A gust of wind from her open window snapped the door shut, knocking over the dictionary that was precariously hiding her handgun.

Sean moved to pick up the book, his smile fading when he saw the semi on the shelf. He picked it up and looked at her. "I thought you had a desk job, sweetheart? Come to think of it, I thought you were on maternity leave?"

Anna blushed, taking the Glock from his hand and making another attempt at putting it into the safe. "I am…I was just cleaning it."

Sean squatted down next to her. "For what?" he asked softly.

"For nothing. To keep it clean. Old habits die hard."

He watched her struggle to key in the number code to open the safe, a worried crease forming on his brow. "Did you forget the combination?"

Anna shook her head, hating that headache hadn't subsided yet. Hating that Sean was sensing her distress. "I just…" She put the gun down with a forced smile. "Seeing you, so unexpectedly…you're turning me into a nervous mess."

Sean took the gun and put it on the top shelf of the wall unit. "Put it away later, sweetheart. Leah isn't old enough to come out and get it is she?"

Anna nodded.

"Glock 35?" His face was serious now. "I'm surprised you didn't just get an Uzi. That's quite the gun, sweetheart."

He put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Anna…is everything really alright?"

"Yes...yes, everything's fine."

"I never made you nervous before…"

She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, taking a deep breath. "It's been so long since I've seen you. I _missed_ you."

"I missed you too," he told her, his eyes gently telling her she was changing the subject too fast for his liking.

"You look good," she told him with a smile. It was the truth. He did. Like other men who were comfortable in their own skin, Sean Donely had aged well. Gracefully. The deep laugh lines and specks of white hair he now sported only served to give him an air of refinement, rather than make him look old.

"You too, Anna."

They had been out of each other's lives for a long time but not long enough for Anna not to know when he was lying. She _didn't_ look good. She knew it. She looked tired and stressed.

"But you don't look like someone who had a baby, what, less than four months ago?" he admitted. "Have you lost weight?"

"I didn't gain much during the pregnancy," she told him truthfully.

"Robin told me you had a rough time."

"It all turned out okay in the end. Leah's healthy. That's all that really matters."

"Your health matters too."

Anna avoided his gaze, letting him know it was another topic she had not intention of discussing.

"So, would you like to see the little devil?"

Sean nodded. "I'd love to."

Anna led him into the baby's room, her face lighting up when she saw Leah. "Oh my," she said, with a smile, "She doesn't usually do that…"

"Do what?"

"Wake up without announcing herself."

The baby was lying in the crib, wide awake, her dark eyes staring at the two people that had come into her view.

Anna bent down to pick her up, kissing her on the nose. "Hi, sweetie, there's someone special I want you to meet." She cradled the girl in her arms, making Sean's already wide smile broaden.

"Oh my, Anna, she's… beautiful," he gushed.

Anna knew he had wanted children with Tiffany. Knew too that it was a wish that gone unfulfilled.

"Her hair and her eyes…they're so dark!"

Anna smirked. "That's David."

Sean's smile disappeared. "Has he seen her?"

Anna shook her head. "No. Not yet."

"Will he?"

Anna shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know." She resisted his gaze once more, letting him know that topic too wasn't one she was ready to discuss yet. Instead, she turned her attention back towards Leah. "You want to hold her?"

Sean's smile came back as quickly as it had vanished. "I thought you'd never ask…"

She handed the baby over to him, enjoying the spark in his eyes. "Don't I wish I had a camera now."

Sean smiled. "We have lots of time for that. I'm in Paris for two weeks. Work _and _leisure." He cooed to the baby, making a face for her. "She's so tiny and soft."

Anna laughed, surprised at how comfortable the baby seemed in his arms. Obviously Sean Donely had a calming effect on all Devane women. Her headache too was finally subsiding. "It's a baby thing."

"I know…but this one." He beamed. "She's an absolute doll, Anna."

"Where are you staying?" Anna asked him, leaning against the drawer, observing them both.

"Hotel Vendome, on the Rue de Fleury. Which, in my excitement to see you, is where I left half a suitcase full of gifts for Leah."

"Aw…Sean, you didn't have to do that. As for a hotel, why don't you stay here instead?"

Sean smirked, his eyes still on the baby. "Oh no, I couldn't."

"Robin still has her own apartment, she just comes over whenever she wants and I can sleep in the nursery next to the crib. I would have a free room for you."

Sean rocked the baby as he strolled across the room with her. This time his smile turned mischievous. "Actually you might need that room for someone else…"

_Pine Valley, PA _

"No it's okay. I understand. You're busy," David spoke into the phone making a concerted effort to sound nonchalant. "Next week is fine. Don't be silly…of course it is." He listened to his cousin apologize once more for cancelling their dinner date. "Next week. Yes. Definitely. Bye, Maggie."

He hung up the phone and stared at the empty cabin. It was uncharacteristically neat and tidy. David wasn't sure whether it was because he was rarely here, or because Anna was no longer around to keep things messy.

'Not messy,' he corrected himself. '_Lived in_.' When Anna was here it looked as though someone actually lived in the cabin. There were clothes strewn over chairs and mantles, and dishes that would often go a day or two before being washed. He remembered that her messiness used to bother him. Her disregard for perfection and neatness irritated him back then.

Now, he'd gladly pick up a jacket and hang it up in the closet after her, if only it meant that she were still here with him.

_How in the world is it possible that I still miss you so much?_

He wasn't used to women getting under his skin, the way Anna did.

'She not just some woman,' he reminded himself. 'She was your wife. The mother of your child.'

He heard the squeaking of a rodent in the corner of his cabin. "I didn't ask you for your opinion, Ruben," he told the guinea pig.

He frowned when he looked at the animal. He wasn't particularly fond of small, furry things but at least Ruben reminded him of Melissa. Of the one bright spot in his life.

After Melissa's heart transplant she stayed at Seaview for nearly a month, as several minor complications, including continued vascular bleeding and a urinary tract infection, took their toll on her.

David didn't believe in much, outside of cold, hard science, yet even he believed that this guinea pig, of all things, held a greater healing power than most of the medications he'd given her. When she was in pain and frustrated, all he had to do to bring a smile to her face was put the rodent on her lap.

When it was time for her release however, one thing was clear. The guinea pig was not going home with Melissa Cartwright.

"It's like a rat without a tail," Patsy Cartwright had observed in thinly veiled disgust. "I can't believe you allowed that thing in her room all this time."

"She loves him," David had tried to convince her.

"Maybe my _sick_ daughter thought she loved him, but Melissa isn't sick anymore. A rabbit I can tolerate but that _thing_-"

And of course, Melissa, being Melissa, had been the one who was apologetic, in spite of her tears at the news. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry she won't let me take him. Now you have to keep him. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay Melissa, I don't mind at all."

"Will you give him baby carrots? He likes those."

"I will."

She'd hugged him then. "I'm going to miss both of you so much."

"You can visit him at my home, Melissa."

"I don't know if Mom will…"

"Anytime, sweetheart…you call me and I'll pick you up myself to come and see him."

That was that. He'd seen Melissa half a dozen times since then, for follow up examinations, and she hadn't mentioned the animal once.

David wasn't sure whether it was because she knew it would bring back her tears or whether, with the inherent wisdom of a child, she knew that it would be that much harder to let go if she saw Ruben again.

_I know if I saw you again, Anna, I wouldn't let you go a second time._

The guinea pig lifted its head to look at him. The upward curve of his mouth still gave him a permanent smile.

"Looks like it's just you and me again tonight, Ruben."

Sometimes he pondered what would be worse, having no one in the cabin with him or boasting a guinea pig as his sole companion.

"Oh don't take it personally," he told the rodent with a smirk, when the animal turned his back to him, as though reading his thoughts. "Wouldn't you rather have a female of _your _kind around than me?"

David reached down to open the cage and start cleaning out his litter, until he realized he'd already done it last night. In fact, Ruben's cage was as immaculate as the rest of the cabin. There were fresh baby carrots next to the clear, clean water bottle.

David tapped his fingers on the cage.

He was bored.

It was his first day off from work in two weeks. Surely there had to be something he could do.

'Dinner with Maggie, that _was_ the plan,' he thought with a frown. Now that his one relative cancelled on him he couldn't think of a person in Pine Valley who might enjoy his company for an evening.

There was Greenlee, with whom he was slowly losing touch. Leo had been their only bond and now that he was gone, Greenlee was seeing someone else. She'd told David his name, but he forgot what it was. Or maybe he didn't want to remember. How is it that she could get over Leo so quickly when he still couldn't put Anna out of his mind?

After Greenlee and Maggie, there wasn't anyone else. Not one single solitary friend.

David sighed.

Then he grabbed his coat and headed for the hospital.

He'd find something to do there.

_Paris, France_

Jan Holstrom was jet-lagged.

He'd just flown in from Moscow. His original flight had been cancelled. His next one had been delayed. For seventeen hours. Then the plane had to make an unexpected landing in Prague. Something about faulty fuel level calculations and stronger than expected headwinds.

On the way in from Charles de Gaulle airport, relieved to be on French soil at long last, his taxi spent almost two hours sitting in traffic due to an overturned truck carrying hundreds of live chickens. Jan cringed when he remembered the scene. There were chickens everywhere. On the highway, underneath cars, running out into the open field next to the road.

Jan had never seen so many chickens in one spot. Dead, alive and somewhere in between. Countless, endless chickens.

He loosened his tie when he entered Faison's office, thinking he wouldn't be able to eat chicken for a long time to come. Perhaps not even duck or quail. 'What a shame,' he thought. Rotisserie roasted quail had always moistened his lips with pleasure. Now he knew his stomach would fill with revulsion at the sight. Instead of a meal, he'd envision white, bloodied feathers meshed against a radiator.

"Welcome back, my friend," he heard Cesar Faison's voice booming down the corridor. He was alone in his office, as was often the case.

He had dozens of employees but few that he kept close by.

"You look tired," Faison told him, his voice laced with disdain rather than concern. There were few people in whom Cesar Faison accepted weaknesses. Jan Holstrom was not one of them.

"It's been a long trip," Jan replied.

"Have you finalized the details on the estate?" Faison asked.

"Yes," Jan nodded, pouring himself a cognac from the crystal decanter. He rarely drank, but today he needed one. "It's ready whenever you are. Everything. The staff is ready to have you there. Everything is in place."

"There is no way the purchase can be tracked back to me?"

Jan shook his head. "No. I've covered all tracks. The only connection to the purchase, should anyone be clever enough to dig as far, is a Swiss banker by the name of Keller."

"Good. Because I'm ready."

Jan closed his eyes and tightened his grip on the cognac glass. What was that expression the English had, 'from the fire into the frying pan'?

"I thought you had to wait until the baby was older? Stronger?"

"She's almost four months old. She can withstand an initial dosage of the virus."

"If the cure is administered in due course," Jan finished for him. "What if…" he started. "What if Anna doesn't agree to meet with you?"

"She will."

"But what if she doesn't? What if the baby dies?"

"Anna won't risk it," Faison pronounced with certainty. "I'd stake my life on it." He smiled. "Or rather, I'd stake Leah's life on it."

_Paris, France _

Robin stood on her tiptoes to kiss Sean on the cheek, after entering her mother's apartment.

"Thanks for coming," she whispered.

"I've wanted to come to Paris for a long time now. You just gave me an excuse and believe it or not, the WSB did need me to come here to touch base with a few of our European operatives."

"Still. I owe you one."

"You don't have to whisper," he said with a smile, pointing to the bathroom. "She's bathing Leah. Getting her ready for our evening out."

Robin grinned. "Leah loves taking baths. My sister, the little princess."

"She's adorable, Robin."

Robin's grin spread. "She is, isn't she? Mom thinks I spend all this time here to get on_ her _case, but really it's because I can't get enough of Leah. Every day she does something new. It's incredible. Like seeing the world through whole new eyes." She didn't tell him that watching Leah grow up could very well be the closest thing to motherhood she'd ever experience. For that reason alone she savoured every precious minute.

"Speaking of your Mom, you want to tell me why you're so worried about her?"

Robin lowered her voice again, tossing the backpack she'd worn onto the couch. "You've seen her, haven't you?"

Sean nodded. "She looks tired but then again, isn't every new Mom? Leah must keep her from getting any decent sleep."

"Leah's been sleeping through the night for almost a month now."

"Did you know your mother keeps a handgun in the safe?"

Robin narrowed her brows in shock. "No, no…I had no idea."

"When I arrived this morning, she was cleaning it. She tried to put it back in the safe but…I don't know, it was as though she couldn't remember the code. She was nervous. Like a kid getting caught with their hand in the cookie jar."

Robin frowned, trying to imagine the scene.

"Is she having trouble remembering things?" Sean asked her quietly. "Is that why you asked me to come?"

Robin shook her head. "No…it's not that. I don't think so. But it's other things. She gets headaches all the time and it worries me. And you're right, she's nervous about something. She been antsy since before Leah was born and I can't figure out why."

Sean sat down on the couch, pushing her backpack to the side. "What is it you want me to do, Robin?"

"I want _you_ to find out what's bugging her. You're the detective."

"Have you tried asking?"

Robin chuckled. "Right. Since when is anything ever that simple with Mom?"

Sean smirked. "Your Mom was WSB too. I helped train her. If she doesn't want us to know something, there's not much we can do. She's good at keeping secrets."

"Please, Sean…I know it sounds crazy but I have this terrible feeling that there's something wrong."

Sean didn't have a chance to respond when he saw Anna emerge from the bathroom, carrying Leah who was wrapped in two soft, baby blue towels.

Robin turned around to look at them, her lips curving into a smile. "I love how you get more wet than her when you bathe my little sis."

Anna's wet hair was dripping onto her t-shirt and she made a face at Robin. "I'd like to see you do better next time."

"It's all about keeping the water _inside_ the baby tub," she told her, taking the baby from her arms. "I'll get her dressed, Mom. Why don't you dry off and get changed."

Anna watched Robin take the baby into the nursery.

"Robin's crazy about her," she told Sean, taking a seat next to him.

"I can see why."

Anna felt the now familiar ache start to throb under her forehead again.

Sean noticed her fingers subconsciously massaging her temple. "Headache?"

Anna nodded, not bothering to lie this time. Sometimes the truth took less effort. Especially where Sean Donely was concerned.

"Have you spoken to your sister about your headaches?"

Anna rolled her eyes. "I'm sure that's what you do every time you get a headache, isn't it? Call a neurologist?"

"Cut the sarcasm," he said, with a harshness that surprised her. Few people dared to speak as bluntly to her as Sean did. "I'm not the one with a history of seizures and amnesia."

Anna said nothing, feeling the sting of his words.

"Look, Robin's worried about you, and I have a feeling she might have reason to be. Are you going to tell me what's stressing you?"

"It's not something I want to get into. It's _my_ problem, Sean."

Anna watched him observe her, glad that she decided to be straight with him. Aside from Robert, he was the only one who could see right through her lies. "I can take care of myself, Sean," she added softly.

"Sometimes we all need a little help from our friends."

'Except the people that help me usually die in the process,' she thought bitterly, remembering both Robert and Bart. 'And I would never let anything happen to you, my friend.'

"Anna?" The concern in his eyes was unmistakeable.

"Why don't you tell me what you meant this morning, when you suggested I might need the extra room in the apartment for someone else?" She might not be good at lying to him, but she _was _good at changing the topic of conversation.

"Don't ch…" his words were interrupted by a knock on the door. Sean gave her a reluctant smile. "Maybe this will answer your question."

Anna gave him a questioning glance before getting up to answer the door. She looked through the peephole this time, her face lighting up at what she saw.

She opened the door with a grin. "Alex?"

Her sister's smile was wider than Anna's. Alex threw her arms around Anna.

_"Surprise!"_

Only when she stood outside in the hallway did Anna notice her sister wasn't alone. There was a young man with her. He had striking grey eyes, a mop of wavy brown hair and was nearly a head shorter than Alex.

"Andrei?" Anna asked.

"Wow…you are right. Your sister, she looks exactly like you," Andrei pointed out, unable to tear his eyes off Anna.

Anna held out her hand to him. "Andrei…it's so nice to finally meet you. Alex says you're an amazing rider." She thought she saw him blush at the compliment.

"I will be one day," he told her, returning her handshake with surprising strength for his small frame.

"Maybe you could teach me then. If I did manage to get up on a horse these days, I think I'd just fall off the other side."

Andrei laughed. "No, I don't believe you. Alex she would show you."

Anna smiled, watching her sister eye him with pride. He wasn't handsome, not by a long shot, but he had more than enough charm to make up for it. He was so very different from the kind of boy she envisioned her sister adopting, yet at the same time, there was a natural ease between the two of them that made her smile.

Anna turned to Sean. "You haven't met my sister and her son, have you?"

"No, I haven't had the pleasure." He held out his hand to Alex. "Doctor Marick…"

"Please, it's Alex."

Sean smiled. "It's lovely to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you."

As Andrei had pointed out, the resemblance between the two _was_ striking. Sure, there were obvious differences, even to the casual observer. Alex's hair was darker and it fell straight over her shoulders, unlayered, unlike Anna's shorter, modern cut, that was highlighted with thick streaks of blonde. There was also a quiet reserve about Alex that contrasted sharply to Anna's nervous energy. And when she spoke, Alex's English accent was stronger than Anna's. 'Yet if they were to tie back their hair, and wear an identical outfit…then even I couldn't tell them apart,' Sean thought.

"I've heard a lot about you as well."

"All good I hope," he smirked. Seeing how relaxed Alexandra Marick was made Anna seem all the more edgy next to her sister. Alex looked radiantly healthy. She sported a light tan too, making Anna's pallor and the dark circles under her eyes even more obvious. 'Robin's right,' Sean decided then and there, stealing another glance at Anna. 'Something is definitely going on with you, sweetheart.'

"But of course," Alex returned his smile with a genuine one of her own. "All good."

Sean liked her instantly.

"Oh look who's here!" Robin announced, entering the living room with Leah in her arms. She winked at Sean. "What a surprise!"

Alex didn't hesitate when Robin handed her the baby. "Say hi to aunt Alex."

Alex kissed Leah's cheek. "She gets cuter all the time." Turning towards Anna, she chided her sister. "You have to e-mail me photos more often. _Have_ to."

Anna moved next to her, overwhelmed by the sudden crowd of people in her room. Sean, Robin, Andrei, Alex…how was it possible they were all here? This morning she had only one thing on her mind, and now, out of nowhere, she was surrounded by old friends and family.

"I will…" she said softly. "I guess this is what Sean meant when he said I might need the extra room for someone else. Why do I have the feeling Robin had something to do with all this?"

Alex cooed to the baby, lying her down on her lap. "I hope you don't mind?"

Anna shook her head. "No, not at all," she replied, seeing Robin and Sean acquaint themselves with Andrei. "I love that you came here."

"I've booked a hotel room for Andrei and myself. Dimitri wanted to come too, but he's got some business in New York. Actually, Andrei has to fly back to London tomorrow, he has some training at Epsom he can't miss."

Anna raised her eyebrows. "Training?"

"Riding."

Anna suddenly remembered. Of course. Horse racing. Alex had mentioned in an e-mail that Andrei wanted to become a professional jockey. That he'd gone to England to train. It was yet another thing she'd completely forgotten. Anything that didn't have to do with her plans to find and eliminate Cesar Faison quickly went to the back of her mind. She wasn't sure whether she had even responded to the e-mail.

A sudden flash of guilt tore through her. Alex made so many sincere efforts to be a part of her life and Anna simply ignored them.

'Once I've killed Faison, I promise that will change…I do want you to be a part of my family, sis. I really do…' Anna thought as she observed her holding her daughter. She knew how much Alex wanted to have children with Dimitri and seeing her with Leah made her wish it too.

"Don't be silly, stay here," Anna told her. "Don't stay at a hotel."

Alex shook her head. "No, I couldn't. You haven't got enough room here for the two of us."

"When Andrei flies to England tomorrow, will you come stay here then?"

Alex looked at her in surprise, as taken aback by the suggestion as Anna was for saying it. " I suppose I could…"

"I'd like it if you did…" Anna wasn't sure what made her say that. Alex's presence would only hinder her plans. But as long as Sean Donely was in town, Anna was certain she'd have to put her plans on hold anyhow. Plus, it was the truth, she did like having her sister around.

Seeing everyone she loved most in the world, in front of her eyes made her feel something she hadn't felt in a long time. It made her feel safe.

For the time being, the killing of Cesar Faison would have to wait.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16 **

_Paris, France_

_The next day_

_-_

_She was at the institution. The walls were white, clean and bare, and she was alone. _

_Until she heard the sound of a door opening. _

"_Mum?"_

_She saw the familiar figure enter the room, a mixture of love and fear rising inside her at the sight. Another emotion too, one that took her a few moments to place. _

_Desperation. _

"_Mum, will you take me away from here? Please?" She said it softly. Rationally. Perhaps then she wouldn't sound as crazy as she felt. As crazy as she had to be, in order to be lying here. In this room. _

_Her mother stroked her hair. "Oh Sasha, you can't leave. Not yet. Not until you're well."_

"_I am well," she announced firmly, trying to convince them both. _

"_You have memories of someone else…they're suggesting schizophrenia, perhaps even multiple personalities. You need to be treated." _

"I_'m not crazy, Mum. I know I'm not." The desperation crept up her throat. Choking her. She didn't have multiple personalities. It wasn't possible. She was a doctor. Brilliant. Revolutionary. Those were the adjectives they used to describe her. Not... insane._

_She knew the human mind intricately. The way others knew recipes. Or baseball statistics. She was a genius. Not mad. _

_She couldn't be. Couldn't stand the thought. _

"_Please, let me come home, Mum." _

"_They have to diagnose you. Treat you. It could take a long time." Her mother's voice was cold. Clinical. _

"_No, please..." _

"_Sasha, you have someone else's memories. You're not well. You're so confused." _

_Desperation became fear now. All-consuming fear. _

_If she stayed here she'd become what they labelled her. She knew it. _

"_The memories I have, they're of a different life, of a little girl named Robin…I don't know why I have them, but I'm not schizophrenic. I would know, Mum." _

"_Relax Sasha. Let them help you." _

"_You help me. Help me leave this place, before I lose my mind."_

_- _

Anna Devane sat in front of the computer screen in her living room. It was almost four in the morning. Leah and Alex were both asleep.

She keyed in the Interpol password that gave her access to the files she was tracking. Large scale financial transactions involving Jan Holstrom.

She frowned when she noticed that nothing had changed since the last time she logged on. The tracking software marked no new activities involving the subject in question. 'Jan Holstrom you _are_ going to lead me to Cesar Faison, sooner or later. Now if only you wouldn't make it so difficult in the meantime.'

She rubbed her tired eyes as she analysed the previous transactions once again.

Almost two million Euros worth of diamonds sold in Antwerp.

'How does an accountant without so much as a mention in financial circles come into the possession of_ this_ many diamonds?'

'African conflict diamonds,' she thought with a frown. 'That would be right up your alley, Faison, wouldn't it?' Because there were almost twelve buyers, the transactions were small. Inconsequential. Not even Interpol had shown a modicum of interest. Yet, added together, within a seventy-two hour time frame, it was almost two million.

'How clever you are, Jan Hallstrom…'

Anna had tracked down seven of the buyers. Three of them had known links to criminal organizations; two others had suspected links and the remaining two were reputable diamond cutters.

Since Jan Hallstrom was proving to be impossible to find, Anna was hoping one of his contacts would lead her to Faison instead.

Buyer number 6. An Italian by the name of Luca Ricci.

Anna stifled a yawn and started a search on his activities.

In the room next to her, she heard Alex tossing in her sleep.

Andrei had left for England yesterday and her sister had taken Anna up on her offer to stay here for a couple of days. Tomorrow Dimitri would fly to Paris from New York and he'd pick up his wife and they would head to England together to visit Andrei, before flying back to Vadsel.

In the meantime, her sister, unlike herself, slept. Restlessly, from the sounds of it.

-

_She saw a man enter the room. _

_He wore a white lab coat like the ones she herself wore so often while doing research. He held a needle in his hand._

_She shook her head in disbelief when she saw it. _

"_Mum, please, don't let him near me. Please…" _

"_Sasha, he only wants to help you. We all want to help you get better." _

"_The drugs…they take something from me. I can't think…I can't remember…I don't know who I am anymore…please, Mum, stop him."_

_The man came closer. _

_Brilliant. Revolutionary._

_Insane._

"_Please don't!" Her voice lost all traces of normalcy. She was screeching now. Pleading. Yelling. Crying. She was exactly what they said. _

_Insane._

"_Please!"_

_The fear grew. Suffocating her._

"Alex…"

"_No!"_

"Alex!"

She was no longer lying down. She was sitting upright and felt someone's hands clutching her arms.

She pushed them aside with a force she didn't know she possessed.

"Alex…hey, it's me. It's okay. It's just a dream."

And then she saw her mirror image staring at her. "Anna?"

"That's right…it's just me. You're at my place in Paris. You're safe."

Alex's face was wet. Thick, salty tears rolled down her cheeks.

Anna didn't know what to do. She'd never seen her like this.

Her perfect sister was a mess.

Anna put her arms around her, but Alex pushed them aside.

"Alex? Are you alright?" Anna watched her wipe away a tear with trembling hands. It was an absurd question.

"I'm fine…it was a nightmare that's all."

"Yeah, I can see that."

Anna's hand stroked her cheek, helping her dry the tears. "Do you often get nightmares like this?"

"No." She averted her gaze. Then reconsidered her answer. "Sometimes."

Anna stood up. "I'll get you some water or maybe some tea?"

Alex shook her head. "No…no, I'm okay now."

"You're shaking." Anna picked up the bedcovers, from the floor, and covered her sister with it. "Stay there," she told her, heading into the kitchen to put a tea kettle on the stove.

A few minutes later she came back with a steaming mug in her hands. "Drink," she told Alex.

Her sister had pulled her messy hair behind her ears and was no longer visibly shaking. She took the cup gratefully. "Thank you."

Anna put a hand on her sister's arm. "After everything you've done for me…please don't thank me for this."

Alex drank the tea in silence.

"Tell me what you dreamt about," Anna prodded. Gently.

Alex hesitated. "I was in a clinic in Wales for several years."

"I know, you told me, when we got to know each other in Canada."

"A clinic for the mentally insane." Alex offered her a lopsided smile. "They're not very politically correct in rural Wales. They don't call them psychiatric institutes. The one I stayed at was called Brynn Wydd. Much later I found out my mother operated it. She used it for psychological experiments."

"You dreamt you were there again?"

"I don't remember much of my time there," Alex explained. "It scares me that there are years of my life that I can't remember."

Anna sensed there was something else. "And?"

Tears welled up in her sister's eyes again and she covered them with her hands.

"Hey…" Anna moved her hands over her sister's. "It's okay…"

"I'm so afraid it could happen again…that I could lose my mind again."

"Alex…you were _never_ insane. Your mother, Charlotte, she drugged you and brainwashed you."

Alex obviously wasn't convinced. "There's a whole school of thought out there that says there's no such thing. That brainwashing is impossible. There's conclusive scientific evidence to back up these theories..."

"Oh…Alex," Anna wished she could comfort her. She had never seen her sister like this. "You are the smartest person I know…you are _not_ going to lose your mind, do you hear me?"

"I have these memories of Robin, as a little girl and I don't know whether they're real or imaginary. I just know I have them and it doesn't make sense for me to have them. Sometimes I wonder, Anna. When I wake up in the morning…will I remember who I am? Am I me…or _you_?"

Anna grimaced. She wanted to curse Charlotte Devane for what she did. How dare she try to turn Alex into something she wasn't?

"She played games with your mind, Alex. That's all. God knows why she did it. But it's over. She's in prison and she can't hurt you anymore. She's the one who was insane. Not you."

Alex nodded, acknowledging her words. Even if she didn't believe them.

"Does Dimitri know?" Anna asked her.

"About the nightmares. Yes." She paused. "He wants me to see a shrink."

"Maybe it's…"

"No way." Alex cut her off. "I won't."

"Dimitri loves you."

"I know," Alex took another sip of the tea, her hands almost steady now. "But I won't drag him into my fears. Into the crazed world of Charlotte Devane. I couldn't bear losing my mind _and_ having him watch…_I couldn't_, Anna."

"Hey…" Anna squeezed her hand again in the darkness of the room. "It's not going to happen. And if…_if_ it were, Dimitri would fight it with you every step of the way."

Alex shook her head, as if unwilling to consider the possibility. "I'm so happy now, Anna. With Andrei and Dimitri, life at Vadsel, it's good. It's _really_ good."

"It should be. You've earned it."

"I couldn't stand to lose it."

"You won't."

Alex's eyes were sombre. "You don't understand, Anna…I really…I couldn't go through that again. I'm not like you. I'm not that strong."

She was on the verge of tears again and Anna felt her own eyes moisten. "Alex...come on, it's not going to happen. _Trust me_. You are so much stronger than you give yourself credit for."

Alex said nothing as Anna brushed a strand of hair from her face.

"You are, sis, you are. When Bart asked you to come to Canada…you didn't hesitate, you just came, regardless of the risks. You kept me hidden at Wildwind. You treated me at the hospital, in spite of the threats involved. And when I was pregnant and Robin became ill, you were there, right away. Always. Without question. I might not have known you for a very long time, but in the time I have, you are the best sister, I could have asked for. _The_ best." Anna suddenly realized something else. "I'm sorry, Alex."

Alex eyed her. "For what?"

"These past two years I always hesitated to get close to you. Because every time I contacted you it seemed like I needed something from you and I hated that."

Alex managed a smile. "You _would_ hate that. You're so damn independent."

"But in trying to prove to you that I didn't need you, I never realized that maybe…you needed me."

Alex wiped her nose. "Maybe we both need each other."

Anna looked at her with regret. Bittersweet regret for all the times they never had together. 'I could have looked after you, my gentle sis,' she thought. 'I could have made sure no one hurt you. And you... you could have let me copy your homework.'

"I think you're right," Anna admitted.

Alex leaned against the bedpost, wide-awake now. "I'm sorry, if I woke you."

"It's okay. I was up anyway." She extended her hand to Alex. "Why don't you get up and we'll throw a movie into the DVD player. It'll get your mind off things. I could even make some popcorn…"

"I don't trust you in the kitchen."

"It's microwaveable. Foolproof."

"Alright then."

Alex got up and walked into the livingroom, just as Anna turned off the computer. "What are you working on at four in the morning?" she asked Anna.

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you."

Alex smirked as she curled up on the sofa. "Why do I believe there's some truth in that?"

Anna laughed, bringing her a bowl filled with popcorn. Alex helped herself to a handful as Anna held up some DVDs.

"You pick," she told Alex.

"Something dark and intellectual, preferably subtitled and revolving around horses…"

Anna stared at her, not sure what to say.

It was exactly the look her sister expected and it made her laugh. "Kidding…the sillier the better. And please, no bloody subtitles. I have enough of those in Hungary. "

Anna held up a DVD for Alex to see.

Alex grinned. "Perfect." She dug her fingers into the bowl of popcorn a second time. "I feel like I'm sixteen again…watching a movie at four in the morning."

Anna pushed the DVD into the player. "We really missed out. The two of us. We have to make up for lost time."

"We do."

They were less than an hour into the movie, when Anna heard Leah cry. She went to Leah's room and came back out with her daughter in her arms, only to see her sister had fallen back asleep on the sofa.

Anna rubbed her nose against Leah, who was calm now. "Looks like your aunt isn't up for all-nighters anymore." The nightmares obviously exhausted her more than she would admit.

Anna bent down, using her free hand to pick up a blanket and cover her sister with it. 'At least you're able to sleep…' she thought, observing her. It surprised her sometimes, the depth of her love for her sister. They were strangers to each other in so many ways, neither of them familiar with the different worlds they grew up in.

'But Robin was right,' she thought, kissing Leah's soft, warm cheek. 'Your life isn't perfect, sis. I never should have assumed it was. Your past haunts you just as much as mine haunts me.'

A sudden chill ran up her spine. An odd explicable need to keep her sister safe.

'Nothing's going to happen to you,' she thought, looking at her sleeping sister. 'You wouldn't go on crazed missions to try and kill Charlotte Devane. You're the thinker. You would find another way to defeat her.'

Anna bit her lip. She wasn't Alex. She had to solve her problems _her_ way.

And the only way to solve the problem of Cesar Faison was to make sure he never took another breath on this earth.

She held her daughter close, hugging her.

It had to be done.

For Leah and Robin.

And for Robert.

_Later_

Alex woke up to the sound of someone knocking at the door.

She stretched, realizing only then that she'd fallen asleep on the sofa.

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, looking around for her sister. "Anna?"

The knocking grew louder and when she heard the sound of running water coming from the bathroom, Alex figured where her sister was. She jumped up to answer the door, simultaneously glancing at her watch.

It was nine in the morning.

Alex peeked through the peephole and saw a man in uniform holding a small package. She grabbed a bathrobe, and wrapped it over her nightgown before opening the door.

"_Bonjour. Vous etes Madame…"_ he held up the package to read the name on its side. _"Anna Devane?" _

"I can sign for it," she told him in English.

The man gave her a scowl and a puzzled look. _"Pardon?"_

Alex cringed. Her French was about as good as her Hungarian.

"_Moi…"_ she said, haltingly. _"Moi…Anna Devane."_

"_Ici,"_ he instructed her, with a touch of irritation in his voice. Only the English assumed their language was universal.

Alex took the package and smiled as she closed the door. She could see what it was through its clear, plastic container. A flower. An orchid.

Anna emerged from the bathroom, a towel draped over her shoulders to keep her wet hair from dripping on her blouse.

"You had a delivery this morning," Alex teased. "Looks like someone has an admirer."

Anna's face lost its colour when she saw the package. "Give me that," she demanded, taking it from Alex's hand.

She grabbed it and it fell to the ground. The plastic package opened and the flower tumbled onto the carpet below.

Her sister's reaction shocked Alex. "Anna…?"

"I…I'm sorry, Alex. I...I didn't mean to grab it like that."

Anna scooped it up and threw it into the nearest wastebasket, her towel falling off her shoulders in the process. "David…he keeps doing this, and it frustrates me."

"David sends you flowers?"

Anna avoided her eyes. "Yes."

"Can't you tell him to stop?"

"It's...it's pointless."

"Anna…if he's harassing you..."

"He sends me flowers. It's annoying that's all. Not harassment."

"I didn't think he knew your new address?"

"He does…but it doesn't matter." She frowned, pointing to the wastebasket. "It's in the garbage now, where it should be. End of story."

"He still gets under your skin doesn't he?"

"Can we not talk about him?"

"Alright…"

"I'm sorry," she repeated, looking both guilty and tense."

"Hey...it's okay," Alex assured her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"It's not. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you." She looked as though she was weighing her words. "I've got a headache and it's making me cranky," she explained with a lops-sided smile.

"It's really okay, Anna. Don't worry about it." Alex frowned, taking a look at her sister, suddenly wondering if she'd slept at all last night. "Robin says you're getting a lot of headaches lately."

Anna sat down at one of the chairs in the dining room, running the towel through her wet hair in an attempt to dry it. "I've had recurring headaches since the explosion. I was told it's normal."

Alex frowned, wondering whether she should be gearing up for a battle of wills. "It is, yes…to a degree. But I'd still like to run some tests on you, including an MRI, just to make sure the scarring on your brain tissue hasn't worsened."

"Alright."

Alex's eyes widened in surprise. "Just like that? I'm not sure whether to worry or be relieved."

Anna raised her brows.

"Your headaches must be bad if you're agreeing this easily."

"Funny…I'm really not that difficult, am I?"

"Sure you are."

Anna sighed. "They're not that bad, just…annoying. And the thought of having seizures again does scare me." She stole a glance towards the baby's room. "I have a little girl now that needs me to be well."

"I can't do the tests here in Paris…but I have visiting privileges at King's College hospital in London. I could set them up for you there. I can arrange for a ride on Dimitri's jet. Or if you prefer, I could do them out of PVH, if you feel like visiting Edmund or Maggie."

"London's fine. I'm not sure I'm ready to see David yet," Anna told her. "I can book a commercial flight too. It's no problem. Just tell me when it's good for you. So I can arrange to have Robin look after Leah."

Alex put a hand on Anna's forehead, a look of shock on her face. "God…do you have a fever too? Who _are_ you and what have you done to my pigheaded sister?"

Anna smirked. "You're very funny this morning, you know that?" She heard Leah crying from the nursery and turned towards it. "Saved by the baby, " she mumbled.

Just as Anna left the room, Alex heard the turning of keys in the door. She smiled when she saw her niece enter.

"Hi Robin! I thought you had classes this morning?"

"One of my labs got cancelled," she explained. "I didn't feel like hanging around for my afternoon class." She grinned at her aunt. "Since you're leaving tomorrow, I thought I'd take Leah off your hands, if you want to spend some time with Mom, shopping or catching up or something."

"Hmm, sounds nice," Alex agreed. "But Leah's no bother. We can take her along."

Anna came out of the nursery holding the baby in her arms. "Did we just hear someone say your name?" She gave Robin a smile, "Hey sweetie."

"I'm here to tell you I can take Leah for the day, if you want to spend some time with Alex."

Anna turned towards Leah. "We're always up for a free babysitter, aren't we?"

Robin smirked. "Who said anything about free?"

"Speaking of which, we might need your services next week again," Alex pointed out. "Your Mom's agreed to let me run some neurological tests in London. I'm thinking I could have them done in a day."

Robin looked shocked. "You convinced her? Wow. What kind of bribery did that entail?"

Anna wrinkled her nose at Leah. "Oh look, pumpkin…it's another comedian." The baby gave her a giggly smile while waving her hands in the air, making Anna laugh. "They _are_ funny, aren't they? You tell them your Mom is a perfectly reasonable person." She then turned to Robin. "Are you sure you don't mind taking Leah for the day?"

"Not at all. If Alex doesn't mind spending a whole day with you that is."

Alex grinned. "I think I can stand it. We can have a quiet lunch, maybe hit some shops, if you're up for it, Anna?"

"Shopping in Paris with you? I think I can find the energy for that."

_Later_

_Parc St. Denis, Paris_

Robin glanced at the budding cherry trees that lined the entrance of the park, just as they were leaving behind the centuries-old low rise buildings of the city streets. Many of which had elaborate and whimsical facades and balconies.

The literati were right, Robin decided. Nothing was as beautiful as springtime in Paris.

'Especially with you asleep in front of me,' Robin thought with a smile, observing her baby sister sleeping in the carriage that she was pushing through the park promenade.

Leah's arrival had changed her life in so many ways. Everything was new and captivating in her sister's eyes, and lately that was how Robin began to see things. As if she was seeing them for the first time.

Leah was in perfect health and, in a way, Leah's future was _her_ future too. The constant shadow of HIV and AIDS that hung over her head seemed to lighten next to her sister's limitless future. The hopes Robin had for Leah became entwined with her own. She _would_ live a long, healthy life. She _had_ to. Because the thought of not watching her sister grow up was unthinkable.

Her mother sometimes joked that Leah was a particularly good baby in order to make up for having put her through a particularly difficult pregnancy.

"I'm sure she's sleeping through the night out of guilt," Anna told her a couple of months ago.

Leah _was_ a happy baby and she was starting to remind Robin how beautiful, and simple, life could be.

Leah knew she was loved, even at four months of age. Robin was absolutely certain of it and she rewarded those that loved her with a smile that could light up a room. When her little sister smiled, the whole world smiled with her.

'You might have your Dad's dark hair and eyes,' Robin thought with a smirk, 'But you definitely have Mom's smile.' By contrast, Robin had inherited her mother's dark brown eyes and hair, but her smile was all Robert Scorpio.

Robin smiled her father's smile now, when she spotted a familiar figure on the park bench.

"_Bonjour, Madame Dupoire!"_ Robin greeted her, pushing the baby carriage towards her. The older woman had neatly coiffed hair and wore the same blue, silk scarf she had on everytime Robin saw her.

The past few months, Mrs. Dupoire was often sitting there, at this same bench, when Robin took Leah for a stroll through the park. She'd be feeding the pigeons or reading a newspaper.

The old lady adored Leah, telling Robin the little girl reminded her of her own grand-daughter who lived in Geneva, and whom she didn't get to see often enough. Sometimes, when Robin sat down on the bench, she'd let Madame Dupoire hold Leah, much to her delight.

What Robin didn't know was that her name wasn't Marie Dupoire. It was Eliane Schwartz and she was neither a widow nor French. Her neatly, coiffed hair was not her own, and the glasses she wore were there only to soften her Slavic features. The woman was, in fact, almost a decade younger than her appearance suggested.

Nor would Robin have ever guessed that Eliane Schwartz hated children. And never would she have imagined that on the days that Eliane spotted Anna Scorpio taking the little girl for a walk through the park instead of Robin, she'd been furious and left her bench angry because a day of progress had been wasted.

Eliane Schwartz had been warned to never make contact with Anna. That, unlike Robin, Anna would have seen through her act and would have instantly sensed the threat that she posed.

"_Chaque jour elle devient plus belle,"_ Madame Dupoire told her, gazing adoringly at Leah, as soon as Robin sat down next to her.

"She does get cuter every day, doesn't she?" Robin told her in turn. As soon as the carriage stopped moving, Leah stirred awake. She stretched her tiny arms, rubbing her face with the back of her hands when she was done.

Madame Dupoire coughed, politely covering her mouth with her hand. Robin asked her how she was. It was the customary start of their conversations. To which the old lady usually replied that she felt wonderful. She seemed to enjoy life, in spite of her obvious loneliness, and Robin liked that Leah's presence cheered her up the way it did.

"_Il fait trop chaud aujourd'hui,"_ she said softly, remarking that it was too warm outside.

It was true, Robin agreed. It was an unusually warm, spring afternoon.

Madame Dupoire pulled a nearly empty water bottle out of her purse, drinking the remainder of its contents in front of Robin. She turned to her, with a trace of hesitancy. Would she mind terribly to take it to the nearest water fountain and refill it for her?

Robin smiled. Of course she wouldn't mind. The nearest fountain was just behind the oak trees to the right. A stand with a large umbrella, selling crepes, blocked it from view, but Robin knew it was there.

"_Vous pouvez la garder?" _Robin asked her, at first thinking she would take the baby carriage along, but then remembering how much the old lady loved to hold her sister.

Leah was still sleepy, her eyes opening slowly, and she yawned when Robin lifted her out of the carriage, and placed her into the open arms of the old lady. Her face beamed when she held the baby. _"Elle est juste comme ma petite-fille."_ She was exactly like her granddaughter, she reminded Robin, as she did nearly every time they spoke.

Robin wished that Madame Dupoire would be able to see her grandchildren more frequently. It was obvious she loved children.

She took the water bottle and headed for the fountain.

The fact that her mother had warned her never to let Leah out of her sight, didn't enter her mind at that moment. After all, Madame Dupoire wasn't a stranger. Robin had spoken with her for nearly two months now. She knew the names of her grandchildren, how her husband died and what butcher she went to.

Not in her wildest dreams would she have imagined what happened the instant she was out of the woman's sight.

Eliane Schwartz pulled a hypodermic needle from her purse and rolled up the baby's sleeve, injecting its entire contents into Leah's fleshy upper arm with the efficiency of a nurse.

Leah started to cry and Elaine rolled the sleeve back down, to hide the small mark the needle left behind. The baby's cries left her cold. Indifferent. If anything, the aggravating sound gave her a sense of elation.

After two long months of slowly gaining Robin Scorpio's confidence, her mission was finally accomplished. She'd receive full payment within hours.

Leah's cries became louder.

Eliane Schwartz smiled.

As soon as Robin was back in view, with an amply filled water bottle, Eliane's face became a mask of concern.

"Aww…sweetie, what's the matter?" Robin cooed, taking her sister from the old woman's arms.

"Are you being difficult for Madame Dupoire?" A sense of unease crept along her spine at the sheer force of her sister's cries. Leah wasn't a cranky baby and when she did cry it wasn't like this. She sounded like she was in pain.

Robin held her close and tried in vain to soothe her. Tried all the little tricks she knew would make her smile, her unease rising when none of them worked.

Eventually, when her cries finally subsided, Robin put her back in the carriage, hoping the motion would make her fall asleep.

"_Je suis desolee_," she apologized to Madame Dupoire, telling her she'd never seen her sister quite like this. But the old lady wouldn't have it, insisting there was no need for an apology, that she knew Leah was a sweetheart.

In turn, Robin offered her a smile, biding her goodbye, hoping they would meet again next time she came to the park.

Madame Dupoire agreed wholeheartedly. Telling her she hoped for the same.

Eliane Schwartz waited several long minutes, until Robin was out of view.

Only then did she allow herself to relax.

She walked to the nearest payphone with the slow, meticulous gait of someone ten years her senior.

When she picked up the receiver, she smiled.

"It's done," she informed the man on the other end. "She has the virus inside her."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

H_old me close and hold me fast_

_The magic spell you cast_

_This is la vie en rose_

_When you kiss me_

_Heaven sighs_

_And though I close my eyes_

_I see la vie en rose*_

Paris, France

_The next day_

"Why don't you let me take her for a while?" Alex asked her sister.

"No, it's alright. I think she's falling asleep now."

Leah had kept them awake with her inconsolable crying for most of the night.

"I've never seen her like this," Anna said softly. She took a seat on the sofa with the baby in her arms, as Leah fell asleep at last, out of sheer exhaustion.

"She'll be alright," Alex reassured her, putting a hand on her shoulders. "Babies do get sick sometimes."

Anna nodded. Alex was right. She was overreacting, as any apprehensive mother would. Alex had taken Leah's temperature twice during the night, and she didn't have a fever.

Alex got up, yawning. "It's almost 6am. I'm going to make some coffee."

"Great idea..."

Anna's eyes followed sister as she headed into the kitchen, before turning their attention back to her daughter. Leah stirred in her sleep, contorting her face and for an instant Anna thought she'd start crying again. "It's okay, sweetie," she whispered, kissing her forehead. "You get some sleep now."

After she was born, Anna had been worried that Leah's health would somehow be affected by her difficult pregnancy. She had done so many things wrong. She'd allowed the stress of her break-up with David and Robin's relapse to affect her. She hadn't slept enough and she didn't eat well. She'd collapsed twice while she was carrying her daughter and Anna was scared that Leah's health would suffer some sort of consequence. When the doctors had told her Leah was not only healthy but glowingly so, it was as though a huge weight had lifted from her shoulders.

'What if they were wrong?' she thought now. 'What if there _is_ something wrong with my baby?'

Anna sank back into the sofa, relieved that Leah seemed to have calmed down for the time being. She was being irrational. She knew it. It was a fear borne out of exhaustion.

It was the second night she hadn't slept and Leah's incessant crying hadn't helped her headache. What had been a dull pain yesterday was now a relentless pounding that made her nauseous. She made a mental note to take something with the coffee her sister was making, something that would take the edge off and allow her to have a piece of toast for breakfast.

Leah stirred and woke from her brief nap only to start crying again.

"Aww…sweetie." Anna got back up and started pacing the room with her once more.

Alex came out of the kitchen with two steaming mugs of coffee in her hand, and promptly set them down next to the sofa. "Drink some," she told her sister, taking Leah from her arms.

Anna nodded. "I think maybe we should take her temperature again. She feels warm."

"I will, but will you do me a favour and relax for a bit?"

"Yeah." She poured two tablets from the bottle of aspirin that sat on the wall unit, and swallowed them with a hot sip of coffee.

Alex gave her a concerned glance and said nothing as she took the baby back into the nursery.

Although she wouldn't admit it, she was grateful for the respite and Alex's unshakeable calm seemed to have a soothing effect on Leah.

Anna cupped her head in her hands, willing for the gesture to stop the throbbing. She hated the increased intensity of her headaches. Hated that they left her drained and exhausted. Perhaps the tests Alex wanted to run would pinpoint the problem and provide a solution. 'Or maybe you're just making yourself sick with your plans to kill Cesar Faison,' she thought . She wasn't a killer and as much as she tried to convince herself that killing Faison was a necessity, the impending act was starting to weigh on her. Killing someone in cold blood, even if that someone was Cesar Faison, went contrary to her nature. The thought alone made her feel sick.

She pictured the headlines: _'Former Police Chief turns Assassin in France.'_

"Well?" she asked, as Alex emerged from the nursery.

"She does have a bit of a fever now." Her sister's face still showed no signs of worry. "I gave her a couple of the infant drops. That should help."

"If it wasn't Sunday I'd take her to see her pediatrician."

"I think she's alright for now. There's no need to worry unless the fever worsens." She paused, "I did notice something when I rolled up her sleeve. She has a mark on her arm…like she was stung by something. A mosquito bite, or maybe even a bee sting."

Anna narrowed her brows. "You think she's having an allergic reaction?"

Alex sat down and took a sip of coffee; "It's a possibility." She saw her sister's anxious expression, "If the reaction were severe she'd be much sicker. So I doubt that's what it is but I'm not surprised she has a temperature. She's been crying all night."

"If the fever doesn't go down in a few hours I want to take her to a hospital," Anna decided.

"Alright."

"Will you come with me?"

"Of course."

"I don't even know which…" Anna's words were interrupted by a knock on the door. "Robin…probably," she mumbled, getting up to open it.

But it wasn't Robin who stood in the hallway outside.

"Dimitri…hello." In all her worry over Leah, Anna had completely forgotten that her sister was supposed to leave for London today. Dimitri was here to pick her up.

He gave her a polite smile. "Hello, Anna. It's good to see you."

Anna held out her hand. "Likewise."

Dimitri Marick didn't like her.

Anna was as keenly aware of that fact, as Alex was oblivious to it.

Her sister smiled at the sight of her husband, getting up to embrace him.

Anna observed the changing expression on Dimitri's face. He adored Alex and never hesitated to let the world around him know it. He was fiercely protective of his wife and Anna could directly link that protective streak to his dislike of her.

Anna knew that Dimitri believed that her lifestyle would somehow endanger her sister. Sometimes she wished she could convince him that she'd sooner die than let any harm to come to Alex. Anna knew she _was_ indirectly responsible for the death of his cousin, Gillian, and that she _did _jeopardize his family at Wildwind while she stayed there. She didn't fault him for being wary of her. Anna figured that was his right. As long as he loved her sister, that was all that mattered.

"I missed you," she heard Alex say, letting the embrace linger. Dimitri returned her words with a kiss, and Anna sensed that were it not for her presence, their reunion wouldn't have been as restrained as it was.

"Are you ready to head out?" he asked her, as though there was no one else in the room.

"I…" Alex glanced at Anna. "I…can't. Leah's not well."

Dimitri turned to Anna. "What's wrong?"

"We're not sure. But, Alex, you don't have to stay…I completely forgot that you were headed to London today. You said Andrei has a race, right? I'm sure Leah will be fine." She made an attempt to put some conviction in her voice. "I've got Robin around too, you know."

"It's alright," Alex told her. "I'll stay until her fever's gone down."

"Alex, really, you don't…"

"I'm staying. No arguments."

Dimitri smirked. "When she says it like that, she usually means it."

"I don't want you to miss Andrei's first race."

To Anna's surprise, Dimitri seemed to agree with Alex. "It's not an official race," he told Anna. "A bunch of trainees are putting on a show for bragging rights."

"But you promised him…"

"I'll still go," Dimitri told her. "Alex can meet me in London afterwards, when the three of us go out to celebrate his win."

"Exactly," Alex grinned.

"Tell you what," he said, turning back to Alex. "I'll use the chance to take care of some business in Paris. Maybe we can have dinner before I take off later tonight?"

"I'd like that."

"I don't feel right about this…" Anna started.

"Don't be silly. Your daughter is more important than a horse race. I'm sure if the tables were turned you'd do the same," Dimitri insisted.

Anna wondered if she was imagining the hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Of course I would…" she replied, not hiding her defensiveness.

"Can I see her?" Dimitri asked Anna.

"Sure. She's asleep now, after Alex gave her the drops."

Dimitri stepped into the nursery and Anna turned back to her sister. "You really don't have to…"

"Stop it," Alex cut her off again. "I'm here, and if you do have to take her to a hospital I'll come with you. I said I would."

"Won't Andrei be disappointed?"

"Sure…but he'll understand, especially when it comes to Leah."

Dimitri came back from the nursery. "She does feel warm," he pointed out.

"I'll go check on her," Anna said, not bothering to hide the worry in her voice this time.

When she left, Alex gave Dimitri another kiss. "Thanks for that."

Dimitri shrugged his shoulders, wrapping his arms around her. "Andrei will miss you. But I do hope Leah will be alright."

"I know. Me too."

His kiss ran down her neck and Alex felt her heartbeat quicken in response. She tilted her head back and sighed. "I missed you."

He smiled. "I'll come back this afternoon. We'll have dinner."

_Later_

_Rue Centaine, Paris_

_-_

The restaurant was small and dimly lit, and because it was Sunday night, it was less than half full.

Had they been here last night, they would have been hard pressed to find an empty table even though the restaurant was hidden on a quiet residential street.

Alex wasn't surprised that the owner knew Dimitri and hugged him when they entered. No matter where in the world they went, he was always in the habit of running into friends and acquaintances. He also seemed have a knack for finding hidden gems that not even the in-the-know guidebooks knew about.

"_Dimitri, ca fait trop longtemps!"_

And more often than not, he was able to converse in the local language. Alex lost track of the number of languages Dimitri spoke fluently. Hungarian, Russian, French, German…there was another one. Italian maybe? She wasn't sure anymore.

Sometimes Dimitri teased her, saying he felt inadequate next to her medical genius. That she'd probably leave him one day for someone for whom molecular biology wasn't the colossal mystery it was to him. In truth, seeing him at with ease with nearly everyone he enountered, in all corners of the globe, was enough to make her feel unsophisticated. Dimitri Marick was comfortable in any setting. He could discuss Eastern European foreign policy with financiers and dignitaries as easily as he could debate what wood to use for a new horse pen, with his stable hands.

She listened to him as he spoke to his obviously delighted friend, in French, nodding when they turned their attention to her.

"_Ma femme, Alexandra." _

"_Enchante,"_ the man took her hand and kissed it, making Alex smile. _"Tu n'as pas exagere," _he said to Dimitri, leading them to a corner table. He had a thick moustache that enhanced his distinctly Gallic features.

"His son, Jacques, and I were best friends, while I studied at the Sorbonne," Dimitri explained to her, after the man left them. "We used to spend a lot of evenings here. In exchange for keeping Jacques out of trouble, his father offered us a lot of free meals and wine," Dimitri laughed. "Lots of wine. Now Jacques is a lawyer in Le Havre."

"A happy ending then."

"Of course."

"I love your humility."

A waitress came and opened a bottle of red wine; pouring its burgundy coloured contents into two delicate glasses.

"So whenever I'm in Paris, I like to stop by. For old times sake. Last time I was here, I told Philipe I wanted him to meet you. He laughed, saying he wouldn't believe it until it happened because my other wives never made it here. So when he saw you tonight he was convinced it was a sign."

"A sign?"

Dimitri smiled. "That you're the one."

Alex returned his smile with a grin of her own. "I hope so." She held up the glass and raised it in a toast. "I'll toast to that…to happy endings."

Dimitri raised his glass too. "To us."

"To us."

Alex felt guilty for leaving Anna alone with Leah. The baby's fever hadn't broken yet, and if it didn't by the time she returned to the apartment, they decided they'd head to the nearest hospital.

"I'm sure Anna didn't mind you coming here," Dimitri told her, as though reading her mind.

"She didn't. But if Leah's fever doesn't go down…it worries me."

"Any ideas what it could be?" he asked, taking another sip of the wine.

"I'd be guessing."

"She has your cell phone number, doesn't she? If anything happens you can be back at the apartment in less than twenty minutes by taxi."

"You're right."

His hand reached over to massage her shoulder. "Relax. Stop worrying. She'll be fine. Besides, you have to eat."

The owner of the restaurant came back out of the kitchen. He started speaking to Dimitri in French, but when he realized that Alex didn't understand he switched to a broken English.

"I say to Dimitri, I will take the menus away and give you something of everything tonight…" He fished for the word. "It will be like, a _menu de degustation_."

"A tasting menu," Dimitri translated. "It sounds marvellous but you really don't have to go to the trouble…"

"Trouble?" The Frenchman gave him an offended look. "Dimitri, _mon ami_, it is not trouble, _c'est un_ _plaisir_!"

He took the unopened menus and replaced them with a dark red, drip candle that he placed in the centre of the table. "Tonight, I want you to remember why Paris it is the most beautiful city in the world."

He poured more wine into their glasses and left with a satisfied smile.

Dimitri's eyes met hers. "Paris does suddenly seem more beautiful."

Alex smiled, wishing she could put her own feelings into words with such ease. 'You're better with words than I'll ever be,' she thought. Her heart rate went up a notch when he looked at her the way he did now. It always amazed her that he knew her so well, knew her every fear and weakness and still loved her so much.

"I wish I had your way with words," she told him.

"You don't have to. Your eyes tell me more than I could ever express with words."

She asked him about his trip to New York, about the latest track results from Austria, France and England, and, of course about Andrei. Dimitri was a fabulous conversationalist and Alex loved the way he could recount the simplest things and make them fascinating. He wasn't just her husband and lover, he was also the best and closest friend she ever had.

"Speaking of Andrei," Dimitri reached into the pocket of his jacket. "I have something I want to give to you."

The candle flickered in front of him.

Alex watched him open the jewellery box, his face lighting up with the gesture. The box wasn't wrapped. No gift he gave her ever was. Dimitri Marick lacked the patience for gift-wrap. In fact, the few times a gift had come pre-wrapped he'd been known to unwrap it himself, hating that it delayed the joy in her reaction.

"Oh my, it's beautiful…"

An intricate platinum chain held up a gold pendant in the shape of a horseshoe. It glistened in the soft light of the candle.

Alex pulled out her glasses to read the elegant inscription that ran along the U-shape of the pendant, and it immediately brought a smile to her face.

_Tempus Fugit, Amor Manet. _

She loved it. Loved its double entendre.

Sprinklings of diamonds ran alongside the letters and two larger stones, at either end of the inscription completed the exquisite design.

"They're Canadian diamonds," Dimitri pointed out. "The lady at Cartier said they were the among the finest in the world."

Alex grinned; of course that would have made them irresistible to Dimitri Marick. "I didn't know there was such a thing. Canadian diamonds? This…this is incredible. But I have to ask, what's the occasion?"

Dimitri was delighted with her reaction. "When I brought home Andrei. It was…it was crazy. I came home with a teenager after we'd decided on a baby. But you, you accepted him. You _loved_ him."

"I do _love_ him," Alex interrupted. "You don't ever have to thank me for that. He's an incredible young man and I'm grateful he came into our lives."

"I am too, but I wish it had happened differently."

Alex ran her hand over his, "I don't believe in fate, you know that. But when I first saw him ride Tempus and saw how much he loved those horses, then I really started to believe that he was meant to be with us." She grinned. "Destiny, as you would say."

Dimitri twirled the pendant on its chain. "Maybe…destiny. Yes, destiny." He sighed. "But I want to say, I didn't buy this to thank you for loving Andrei. I…" he paused, at a rare loss for words. "There are a lot of reasons I love you, Alex. I love that no matter what social gatherings we go to, you'll always be the smartest one there…"

Alex cringed. "Stop it,"

"To top it off you're easy on the eyes."

"Thanks, I think."

"But when I come home and you sit there and go over algebra for the tenth time with Andrei, forgetting your impatience, because you simply won't give up on him. Then, in that moment, I fall in love with you all over again. I fall in love with your _heart_…"

Alex said nothing, fighting the lump in her throat.

"I'm not a humble man, Alex."

She smirked. "True..."

"But sometimes, your love, it humbles me. To think that someone like you, chose to marry me."

She wiped away an errant tear. "God, you're making me cry."

He laughed. "That's the last thing I want to do…but I want you to know, now matter what happens, how many arguments we have in the future, that my love will always remain."

"Amor Manet."

"Yes, _amor manet._ I want us to grow old together, Alex."

"We will." She raised a glass in the candlelight. "To love and future grey hairs." The wine was smooth and well-aged and it softened the emotions his words had brought out.

A waitress came by with the start of Philippe's tasting menu. Lobster cream soup, accompanied by a small terrine of _foie gras; g_oose liver pate, next to paper-thin slices of crisp French bread, and dabs of herbed butter.

They barely finished it when the next items arrived.

_Grenouille a la provencal_. Mildly peppered frog legs, with small bowls of hand-picked sweet and bitter salad greens. Drops of balsamic vinaigrette sat on the leaves, moistening them and glistening underneath the candle's glow.

When Philippe saw the wine diminish, he quickly replaced it with another bottle.

"I think you will like this one, _mon ami_. I have only five of these in my cellar and I never sell them. I save them for special occasions."

Dimitri must have known the value of the bottle, for he started to protest at the extravagant gift, but Philippe wouldn't have it.

"_Tu l'apprecies et ca me donne du plaisir." _

Seeing that the bottle was already uncorked, Alex sensed that Dimitri wasn't going to win this argument and she was right.

Philipe had already poured some of its contents into a new glass for her, while at the same time another waitress brought more food. Baked _escargots_, with garlic spinach, and thick, plump artichokes stuffed with French goat cheese and sun dried tomatoes.

The smell of olive oil and fresh herbs filled the table.

Dimitri relented and Philippe left them, smiling a smile they couldn't see.

"This is an incredible wine," Dimitri pointed out. "An '81 Bordeaux."

"It is," Alex agreed. She was already feeling the effects of the first bottle and wondered if starting a second one was the best idea.

But like the food, the wine was too good to resist. So she didn't.

After finishing their last course, Dimitri took the necklace and fastened it around her neck. "While my hands are still steady…" he explained.

It fit her perfectly, its pendant hanging loosely over green silk blouse.

A young couple sat two tables away from them and after finishing their dessert they walked towards a vintage, silver jukebox that stood in a corner of the restaurant.

The young man's hands were draped over the woman's shoulder and he planted a kiss on her cheek as she chose a song. They were so in love they were oblivious to the world around them.

Alex watched them with a smile. "I like this song," she told Dimitri.

The young couple started a slow dance, moving as though they were the only ones in the room.

Dimitri took her hand. "Let's join them." Unlike a lot of men, Dimitri liked to dance. Maybe because he was better at it than most men.

Alex shook her head. "Let's not..." Normally she wouldn't have hesitated, but tonight she was too full, too comfortable and more than slightly inebriated. "I just want to eat and drink and look into your eyes."

More food arrived at their table and the words of the song rang through the air.

'_Quand il me prend dans ses bras_

_Il me parle tout bas_

_Je vois la vie en rose'_

"She is saying that when he speaks to her, she sees the world through rose coloured glasses," Dimitri told her between bites of grilled calamari. "Like you do, when I talk to you."

Alex chuckled. "Right."

'_Des nuits d'amour a plus finir_

_Un grand bonheur qui prend sa place_

_Les ennuis, les chagrins s'effacent_

_Heureux, heureux a en mourir.'_

"And now?" Alex asked.

"Now she sings of nights of love without end…she's happy, so happy she will die of happiness, her sorrows gone forever."

"I suppose dying of happiness is a pretty good way to go," Alex admitted, taking another sip of wine.

"I like the first part," he said, liking his finger. "Did I tell you I booked a room in Paris? I needed a place to change and freshen up, before flying to London."

"You could have done that at Anna's apartment."

"Why don't you come with me? To the hotel."

Alex grinned. "We haven't had dessert yet, and the food here, it's so good."

"The hotel has room service…"

"It won't be the same," she countered.

"Alright, dessert here, and_ then _come back to the hotel with me."

"I promised, Anna…"

Dimitri wouldn't give in that easily. He never did. "Your sister hasn't called yet. If Leah were getting worse she'd have called. Maybe she's better."

"True…"

Dimitri had a point, and, besides, she couldn't think of a better way to end the evening. She curled her lips into a smile. "Alright, you win."

_Later_

_Hotel Trois Couronnes, Paris_

_-_

They stumbled into the room. Not completely drunk, yet not entirely sober.

Neither of them bothered to turn on the light.

Alex felt his hands on her hips, guiding her towards the bed. She laughed when they miscalculated its edge and wound up lying on the floor next to it.

Dimitri groaned.

"You okay?"

"How are we getting our clothes off down here? In the dark?"

"You know I like a challenge," she whispered, removing his belt and sliding her hands underneath his shirt. In spite of her clumsiness, the buttons came undone with lightning speed.

She felt his hands do the same, easing underneath the fabric of her clothes. They were warm and smooth against her skin, and when she pressed her hand against his heart, she felt it its rapid beats below her palm.

"We could move back up to the bed," he mumbled between kisses.

"No…waste of time…"

She wanted to tell him something, to let him to know how much it always meant to her. To be here, in his arms. To be this loved.

Instead she felt his lips against hers, exploring them, as though for the first time. Gentle at first, then rougher. Deeper.

A sigh of pleasure escaped her lips when she returned his kiss with equal desire.

She didn't need to tell him. Alex drew her arms around him, her nails digging into his back. She'd _show _him.

His body pressed against hers and Alex loved that something that was so comfortingly familiar could still be so thrilling.

No, she didn't have to tell him. She never did.

Dimitri knew.

_Early morning _

_-_

It was hours later that the phone rang. Both of them had fallen into an exhausted, contented sleep, but Alex was a light sleeper and she heard it on its second ring.

Her hand reached for what she thought was the bedside lamp. She overestimated its sturdiness and her attempt to turn it on sent it crashing down, directly on top of Dimitri.

He bolted upright.

"Sorry," she cringed. "I didn't mean to…"

"Give me a heart attack?"

"Yeah, that too."

The phone kept ringing and Dimitri reached for his jacket, still on the floor, pulling it out of its pocket in the darkness. "Hello? Yes, yes she is. Just a second."

"It's Robin," he whispered.

"Hey sweetie…oh no… oh, of course, I'll be there as soon as I can."

The room was warm and Dimitri got up to open a window.

"Is everything alright?" he asked her.

"No…Leah. She…her fever's gone up and they've taken her to Hospital."

Dimitri gave her a concerned look. "Oh no, I hope she's okay."

"Me too." Alex wrapped the bedcover around her, grateful for the breeze that was coming in through the window.

Dimitri turned on a ceiling light and its sudden brightness made Alex squint her eyes. She still felt groggy from the wine last night. "What time is it?" she asked him.

"Five in the morning?" He cringed. "Do you want me to go with you?"

"No, it's okay. You have to leave soon if you're going to catch the race. One of us should be there."

Dimitri nodded. "I'll call you as soon as I get to London."

"Will you give Andrei my love?"

"I will."

Alex gathered her clothes and dragged herself to the room's bathroom, groaning at the effort.

Dimitri smirked. "Too much of a good thing last night?"

"No such thing," she countered.

When she came out, he handed her a glass of water and Alex noticed he was dressed as well. "Thought you could use it," he teased.

She took it gratefully, "Thanks." She felt the coolness of the gold pendant against her heart. "Hangover aside, last night was wonderful. Thank you."

He bent down to kiss her lips. "Welcome."

She returned the kiss, wanting nothing more than to sink into the bed and fall asleep again, with his arms wrapped around her. "Love you," she said softly.

"Love you more." It was his usual reply, a ritual of sorts.

Dimitri was a believer of certain rites which were contrary to the scientific logic Alex lived by. Like, just now, how he'd never part without telling her he loved her. That too was a good luck ritual for him. "Because," he'd explained to her one night. "Magyar tradition says that those who know how much they're loved always return home, Alex. Always."

_Hopital St. Michel, Paris_

_-_

When Alex spotted Robin in the busy hospital corridor, she saw her niece was crying.

"Robin, what's wrong?"

"Oh Alex…Leah's really sick…they have no idea…the bloodwork…" the words got lost in her throat.

Robin wiped away a tear and stared at the two men and one woman who were in the waiting room with them.

Alex noticed that Anna was arguing with them but couldn't understand what they were saying.

"What's going on?" she asked Robin.

Robin glared in the direction of the three who were with her mother. "It's crazy, Alex…they're with Child Care services. The doctors who examined said it's possible Lea was given something that made her sick." She bit back another tear. "The hospital called them in. They…they think Mom might have hurt Leah."

-

*lyrics taken from Edith Piaf's "La Vie en Rose"


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

_Hospital, Paris, France_

"They think Anna hurt Leah?" Alex asked Robin incredulously.

Robin frowned, her efforts to stay calm made easier in the presence of her aunt. Everything about the night had been surreal. She was hoping she'd wake up soon and find out that it was all a dream.

Yesterday Leah had been glowingly healthy. Today she was in intensive care, her fever dangerously high and her organ functions in danger of being compromised.

A team of doctors had begun the daunting task of trying to figure out what was causing her sister's alarming symptoms. Although the fear of contagion was low, as neither Anna, Robin or Alex were exhibiting symptoms, her sister was isolated, visited only by heavily masked doctors and nurses. Dozens of tests were conducted on Leah, and so far none of them had brought them closer to an answer than when she was first admitted several hours ago.

Allergic reactions were ruled out.

Tests for various poisons came back negative.

Bacterial samples were inconclusive.

"Aside from Leah's mysterious symptoms, they've had several cases here of Munchausen Syndrome By Proxy," Robin explained to Alex. A psychiatric disorder suffered by mothers who purposely made their young children ill, as a means of seeking attention.

"I see…"

"It's insane, Alex," Robin said angrily. "Leah's so sick and that's all they can come up with? Mom trying to poison her?" Robin felt the tears well up again. "The only time they let her see Leah is when she's accompanied by two child care workers."

Alex hugged her, observing Anna with the Children's Aid workers, from the corner of her eye. "Once they find out what's wrong with Leah, they'll realize how mistaken they were."

"They better."

"Thanks for coming, Alex," Anna told her, after she left the government workers, embracing her sister. She looked at Robin. "Has there been any news from the doctors?"

"No…but they've ruled out a bacterial infection."

"What about you?" Alex interjected. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm alright," Anna said softly. "Tomorrow my physician is faxing them my medical records, that should start to clear things up. I have no records of mental illness."

"You're way calmer than I'd be, sis."

Robin watched her mother sink into one of the chairs in the waiting room, as though she lacked the energy to keep standing.

"_This_," Anna said, staring in the direction of the Children's Aid workers. "This doesn't matter. It's a mistake that's all. I just want to know what's going on with my baby." She raised her gaze towards Alex. "Can you check with Leah's doctor and see if you can find out anything more than they're telling us? You're a physician, he won't give the same run around. He's a tall, Persian man by the name of Kazemi and he speaks perfect English."

"I'll try."

Anna waited until Alex left, before turning to Robin.

"I need to ask you something, Robin. The day before yesterday, when you stayed with Leah while Alex and I went out, did you ever leave Leah unattended?"

Robin frowned, not entirely sure she understood the question. "Unattended? No…no definitely not." Since Leah's birth her mother had been adamant that no one who wasn't a mutual friend or relative was to ever be left alone with her sister. Not even her university friends were allowed to hold Leah, without her supervision.

Robin had wondered then, whether her mother had been equally cautious and over protective when _she _was born. Whether her paranoia went back to her days as a spy or whether it was linked to her years of being a target of Cesar Faison's obsessions, Robin wasn't sure. Either way, it was obvious that her mother still trusted no one. It was an over-protectiveness that Robin didn't pretend to understand but she did her best to respect it.

"I want you to retrace your steps for me on Saturday."

"Mom…I don't get this…I said…"

Her mother cut her off in mid-sentence. "Look, the doctors are suggesting she might have been _injected_ with something. Now would you just do this for me?"

She hadn't heard this tone of voice from her mother since she was a teenager and Robin felt as though she was being interrogated. She was about to tell her as much until she caught the desperation in her mother's face and decided to bite her tongue.

She also noticed how exhausted her mother was. If her worry for Leah hadn't eclipsed everything else, Robin would have been concerned for her too. Dark circles rimmed her eyes and Robin was sure it had been days since her mother last slept.

Humouring her paranoia was the least she could do.

"I stayed at the apartment with her for a couple of hours, after you and Alex left. I gave Leah her bottle and decided to go out for a walk with her afterwards, 'cause being in the carriage always puts her to sleep."

"Then?"

"I got her ready to go outside. It was really warm so I put on her light yellow dress."

Anna said nothing and waited for her to continue.

"I walked down the street to the pharmacy. The protocol made me really nauseous that day, so I wanted to get something for it."

"In the pharmacy, was there ever a time when you left Leah alone?" Anna asked her, more gently now.

Robin's mind went back to that day, picturing herself in the old pharmacy with the hardwood floors. "No…no, definitely not."

"And then?"

"We went back outside and by that time Leah was already asleep."

"Was she already cranky at that point?"

"No…no, she was sleeping. So I decided to take a walk through the park. Parc St. Denis, you know, the one where you go jogging sometimes."

"Did you ever leave her alone there? Was there a concession stand you stopped at where someone might have approached the baby carriage?"

"No." Aside from an occasional ice cream, Robin rarely stopped at the food vendors in the park and that morning food had been the furthest thing from her mind. "I saw Madame Dupoire, that's all."

"Who?"

"Madame Dupoire, the old lady I've mentioned to you. The one who keeps saying Leah reminds her of her granddaughter."

"But you wouldn't leave Leah alone with this woman, right?"

"No…" A memory of that afternoon suddenly came back to her. It was hot. Robin had gone to get some water from the fountain and left Leah with Madame Dupoire. "I did let her hold Leah while I went to get some water for her. I was away from her for a minute or two at the most."

The colour drained from Anna's face.

"You did _what_?"

Robin stared at her mother, baffled by her reaction. It wasn't as though grandmothers sitting in parks were out to get her baby sister. "Mom…it was _Madame Dupoire_. I _know _her! I've been chatting with her for a while now. She tells me about her life. She's like a lot of old people. Lonely. She likes having someone listen to her and she's _crazy_ about Leah!"

The words of reason flew right past her mother.

"You're saying you left Leah alone with this woman?"

"Mom…are you listening to a word I'm saying? Madame Dupoire is an _old lady!_ She's a grandmother I chat with when I go to the park! There's no way she would hurt Leah. _No way._"

"Tell me everything you know about this woman."

Anna's voice was cold and authoritarian, and it made Robin angry. Leah was ill and all her mother could do was grill her about a sweet, old grandmother?

"I already told you about her!"

"I said I want you to tell me everything you know about her. _Everything_," she repeated.

Robin glared at her and gave her the details she demanded. The street where Madame Dupoire said she lived, the deli where she said she shopped, even the names of her grandchildren, watching as her mother took them all in.

"You are so wrong, Mom, thinking that she could have anything to do with Leah being sick. It's crazy!"

"Crazy?" Anna asked her angrily. "I'll tell you what's crazy, crazy is that you left her alone with that woman after I told you so many times never to leave her out of your sight. Damn it, Robin! How could you be so careless?"

Robin felt the tears welling up again. As if she'd ever do anything to harm her little sister when she loved her so much. "Paranoid," Robin hissed. "_You_ are totally paranoid, Mom. Why would anyone want to hurt Leah? Explain that to me?"

Robin's mind drifted back to that hot afternoon in the park. Madame Dupoire had looked warm and flushed. She had just finished the last drop of water in her bottle. It made perfect sense to ask her to refill it for her. Madame Dupoire had a bad knee and she walked with difficulty. There was nothing remotely nefarious about her request.

Robin remembered how happy the old woman had been to get the chance to hold her little sister, how adorable Leah had been after slowly waking from her nap.

_And when I came back she was crying uncontrollably._

'No,' she told herself as an alarming thought crept up her spine. 'That was a coincidence, that's all.'

"You are wrong, Mom," she repeated aloud. "You are _so_ wrong." She got up and brushed away her tears, making her way out of the room.

"Where are you going?" her mother demanded.

"I'm going to the park. I'm going to find Madame Dupoire and bring her here to the hospital to prove to you that she didn't hurt Leah! That nobody did!"

"Robin don't…"

Robin didn't listen to the rest of what her mother said.

She ran out into the hospital corridor.

_Epsom, England _

_-_

The sound of horses racing filled his eardrums. There were only five of them tearing across the racetrack but the powerful pounding of their hooves reverberated through the air.

Dimitri watched them with a smile. It was a sound he never tired of. Power and passion in the form of the most beautiful animal on the planet.

A gentler sound approached him from behind. Hooves trotting on the grassy ground.

He turned to see Andrei and Tempus Fugit approaching.

Andrei wore a smile on his face. "You are almost late. They are taking bets for the next race only for another ten minutes. "

Dimitri chuckled. "What makes you think I'm going to bet on you?"

Andrei's smile broadened. "Because you bet always on the winner and I'm going to win."

"Is that an inside tip?"

Andrei dismounted the horse with ease. "Yes. Only for you." He looked around the track. "Is Alex here?"

Dimitri shook his head. "Leah got pretty sick in Paris, so she decided to stick around for her and Anna."

"Oh…" Andrei's smile faded, and he walked along the fencing with Dimitri, holding on to Tempus's rein. "She is going to be okay?"

"We hope."

"It is too bad…I have a surprise for Alex."

"What is it?" Dimitri asked.

Andrei grinned. "You will see. It is a surprise for you too."

"Here," Dimitri spread open his arms. "Alex asked me to give you something too."

"What?"

Dimitri gave him a fierce hug, that Andrei squirmed out of, in embarrassment.

"That."

Andrei blushed. "No she didn't."

"She did. Don't blame the messenger." He checked his Longines watch. "I guess I'll head up to the stands and put a couple of quid on my favourite horse," he teased, patting Tempus on the neck.

Andrei remounted the horse with lightning speed. "You would be smart to bet more than that." He gave him an amused salute. "I will be in lane number two, third race."

"I know," Dimitri replied, watching him ride off towards the track. He slowly walked back to the stands. They were almost empty, and only one betting booth was open of a possible dozen.

"10 Pound to win on lane two," he told the cashier.

"Bet on the rider sir, for these races, the lanes might be reassigned," he told him, stifling a yawn.

"Andrei Ionescu," Dimitri told him, waiting as he scrolled down the list. There were half a dozen races taking place within the next hour.

"No rider by that name," the cashier said matter of factly.

Dimitri frowned. "There has to be. The third race, lane two. Can you check again?"

"There's an Andrei _Marick_ in that lane."

Dimitri felt his jaw drop. "Marick?"

"Yes, Marick."

"That's…that's fine too. Ten Pound to win for Andrei _Marick_."

Dimitri smiled. It had to be the surprise he'd mentioned. Was Andrei even old enough to legally change his name? "_Andrei Marick_…" he said it aloud, liking the way it rolled off his tongue. 'What a fantastic surprise. Alex, you'd have loved it.'

Our son. Andrei Marick.

He sat down on the bleacher, smiling. It was an unusually warm and sunny day, and he adjusted his sunglasses in the glare of the late morning sun, to eye the track below.

For the time being, the race didn't matter.

He'd already won.

_Hopital St. Michel,_

_Paris, France_

_-_

"Oh God," Anna thought, cupping her head in her hands after her daughter ran out of the room. "Please let me be wrong. Please let Robin be right. Please..."

Her eyes stung when she closed them and, without a visual world to distract her, she felt the full force of the pulsating underneath her forehead. She remembered taking something for the pain hours ago, but its numbing effects had long since worn off. Anna forced her eyes open again, afraid if she left them closed she'd be sick.

A familiar face came into view as soon as she did.

"Sean?"

Sean bent over slightly, to kiss her cheek. "Hey, sweetheart. What's going on? I saw Robin running out of here in tears."

Anna frowned. "She's upset."

"I gathered as much." He sat down next to her. "How's Leah?"

"They don't know what's wrong with her. They can't seem to bring down her fever."

"They have no idea?"

"Nothing. They've ruled out certain things but a lot of her blood work has come back inconclusive." She sighed and met his eyes. "Alex is here too. I asked her if she could find out something more from the doctors."

"Good." He paused, loosening his tie.

He had probably come from work, in spite of the early hour. Anna had no idea what exactly he was doing here in Paris. Only that he was here on behalf of the WSB.

Sean raised his eyebrows. "Robin told me about the child welfare guys. Are they giving you a hard time?"

"They're taking all precautions because her illness is a mystery. I don't blame them for that, I'm just scared for my baby, Sean."

Sean caught her fighting back tears and held her hand. "She's going to be fine."

Anna nodded. "She has to be."

"Anna," Sean started, hesitant. Interrogating her was the last thing he wanted to do. "This thing with the Bureau of Child Welfare…is there something you're not telling me?"

Anna looked at him in shock. "Are you asking me if I hurt my daughter?"

"Of course not," Sean shot back, appalled at the absurdity of her accusation. "The reason I'm asking is if they're hinting that Leah might have been _given_ this illness, then _who_? Is there someone out there whom you think might want to hurt her? Or _you_?"

Anna bristled at the thought. She hadn't been willing to consider the possibility yet. Cesar Faison was a lot of things. But not this. If she could link him to this, she wouldn't just kill him. She'd make sure it was a long, slow and painful death.

"I don't know," she whispered, "I have no idea what twisted individual would do something like that, but heaven them help if there is a person out there responsible for this."

Sean nodded in silent agreement. "What about you?" he asked Anna, suddenly aware of how exhausted she looked. "You look like you could use some rest."

Anna leaned back in the chair. "I probably could."

"Then let me drive you home, to get a couple of hours sleep. You can't do anything for…"

Anna cut him off. "I'll sleep when I know my little girl is going to be okay."

"Anna…"

"Don't."

Her look stopped him from going further, reminding him she was no longer the young woman he'd so often taken under his wing and protected. Anna could fight her own battles now.

Sean acknowledged her admonition. He knew better than to insist. He also knew her well enough to know that there were times when she had to have things her way. Besides, if anyone could go without sleep for a few days with no ill effects, it was Anna Devane.

Yet looking at her now made him wonder just _how_ long she'd been pushing herself to her limit, and how close she was to reaching it.

"Fine, but is there anything I can do for you? Anything at all?"

"I've got a terrible headache," she admitted, shooting a glance at the Child Welfare workers. "It's making it difficult for me to be civil with these guys. Do you think you could get me something for it from the gift shop downstairs?"

"Sure." He eyed her with fresh concern. "That I can do."

"Thanks."

"Sweetheart, she's going to be okay," he repeated putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Yes," Anna agreed, because there simply was no other option. "She will."

She waited until Sean left the waiting room, before getting up and venturing into the hallway to look for the nearest payphone. One of the Child Welfare workers followed her.

When she found a phone she put in her Euro phone card, picked it up and dialled his number.

"It's me, Dan," she said softly when she heard his Irish accent on the other end. "I need a favour and it's urgent. I need you to find out whatever you can about a Marie Dupoire who supposedly lives on Rue Lafayette."

_Intensive Care Unit-Isolation Room_

_-_

Alexandra Marick's face was sombre as she took off the latex gloves and facemask she'd worn to see Leah.

"Take a look at this," Dr. Kazemi pointed out to her, holding up a sheet of test results. "Whatever this is, it's already affecting her kidney function."

Anna had been right; Dr. Kazemi's English was perfect. The Iranian doctor told her he'd spent six years working in London. He'd also impressed her with his willingness to let her in on every detail of her niece's case.

When she'd told him her name, his dark face had lit up in recognition, telling her he had read some of her work. But Alex had a feeling he would have accommodated her request whether or not he was a fan of her research.

Leah was a very sick baby but Alex was convinced she was in the best of hands.

"If this, _this thing_, progresses at the current speed, her vital organs could start shutting down within days."

Alex said nothing, not allowing herself to consider the possibility. The sheer speed at which this virus was making its way through her body frightened her. She was vaguely familiar with some the worlds highly pathogenic viruses. Viruses that affected the body's vascular system and ceased its ability to regulate itself with admirable speed. Names such as Ebola, Lassa and Marburg ran through her mind. Haemorrhagic fevers with frighteningly high mortality rates.

Thankfully none of Leah's symptoms were accompanied by any sort of haemorrhaging. Not yet.

Her lung capacity however had been affected, and now pulmonary viruses were also being taken into consideration, in hopes of identifying the viral agent.

Alex's speciality was prion diseases; rare, highly fatal illnesses that, nonetheless had incubation periods of several years. She wasn't used to dealing with viruses that spread as rapidly as whatever was affecting Leah did.

"I hope the anti-virals will have some sort of effect," Dr. Kazemi told her.

Alex frowned. She was familiar with his tactics. Grasping at straws was what she called it. Hoping that doing something, regardless of whether that something was proven effective, was better than doing nothing. She'd taken that route often enough herself, with patients she didn't think she could bear to lose.

"I hope so too."

She spotted her sister walking down the corridor towards her.

"How is she?" Anna asked.

Alex wouldn't bother with a false optimism that her sister would see right through anyway. "It's not good."

The words hit Anna like a tangible object.

"We believe it's viral."

"She has a virus?"

"Yes."

Anna bit her lip. Crying wasn't going to defeat her god-awful feelings of helplessness. It was pointless. "How? How did she get it?"

"We don't know. Not yet."

Doctor Kazemi stood next to both of them. "I'm going to explain the latest results to the Child Welfare workers. It will take at least one load off your shoulders, Madame Devane. I'm sorry you had to bear their scrutiny."

Anna gave her sister an uncomprehending glance.

"It means you couldn't have done this," Alex explained. "No one did."

"So it's not possible that someone _gave_ this to Leah? What about the needle mark on her arm?"

"The doctors were wrong. It's likely something else."

"So you're saying it's absolutely impossible?"

Alex frowned, not sure what her sister was asking. "It's not _impossible_. You _can _inject someone with a virus, using a syringe. But it's unheard of. People don't go around injecting viruses into other people."

But then, Anna thought, Cesar Faison wasn't most people.

The thought made her physically ill.

Alex saw her Anna close her eyes as she placed a hand on her stomach. "You okay, sis?"

Anna swallowed and steadied herself. "I'm fine. I just want to see my baby." She stared into the isolation room. A large, sealed window allowed her to look into it, seeing Leah's tiny body surrounded by machines and wires on what looked like a monstrously large bed.

The sight made it impossible to hold her tears back.

"Alex…" she said softly.

"Anna, what is it?"

"I just realized something."

"What?"

"David. He's never seen her. His daughter is so sick and he's never even seen her."

Alex didn't know what to say.

"He has a right to know," Anna insisted. "I _have_ to tell him."

_Seaview Hospital, Pine Valley, PA_

_-_

David Hayward was annoyed. He sat in his office and stared at the morbidly obese couple across from him.

"I've already explained this to you. You _have_ to meet me half way."

"I've been smoking for twenty years, doc. I can't just give it up," the man explained, defensive.

David seethed. "I don't know how exactly you ended up in my care but I'm going to explain this to you one last time, in very simple terms that even you can understand, Mr. Albright." He knew the outburst that was sitting at the tip of his tongue would land him another reprimand from Gord Mackenzie, maybe even a suspension this time. "Let's pretend your heart's a car, and I'm the mechanic who fixed it. It was a mess when you brought it to me, but with somehow I managed to get it running again. So, let's now pretend that you depend on this car to get around, that it's _essential_ to your survival…"

"Don't talk to us like we're some…" the wife protested, indignant.

David raised his hand, letting her know he wasn't having any of it. "Knowing that...you'd think you'd make some kind of half-assed effort to look after this car. As in...drive it carefully, change the oil, send it in for regular tune ups…but no, instead of doing that you keep trashing it and treating it like it was a piece of scrap metal and_ then_ you come back to me and expect _me_ to fix it?"

"My husband isn't a car, he's a...person," the woman stuttered.

David laughed cynically. "Well then, it looks like we might finally be on the same page, Mrs. Albright, because that's _exactly_ my point! He's a human being. Not a _sloth_. Humans need to follow a half decent diet, they shouldn't smoke two packs a day after they've already had two cardiac arrests, they should get their giant rears off the couch every now and…"

The woman gasped, close to tears now. She'd heard about Doctor Hayward's infamous mean streak but she hadn't expected this outburst. After all, nobody was perfect.

The woman's obvious distress mollified him a little, but then he bit back his restraint. People were all too used blaming society for their lousy habits. Sometimes they needed to be told the truth. It was time they took the brunt of the blame for their actions.

He was about to go on when he heard a knock on the door and saw Leticia's head peek in. "David, there's a phone call on line three for you…"

"Not now," he told her, his irritation mounting. Obviously there was a reason he forwarded his phone during consultations.

"It's important," she told him.

"I said not _now_," he reiterated with annoyance.

Leticia pursed her lips and shrugged off his arrogance. "It's your wife," she said softly. "She said it's about your daughter."

David's eyes widened, his heart skipping a beat. "My what?"

"Your daughter."

A little girl. He had a _daughter_.

His next breath was a gasp that struggled for air. He stared at the couple in front of him, completely forgetting what he had been about to say to them. "Mr. Albright…we're done here today."

"But…" the wife protested, dumbfounded, next to the husband who still didn't say anything.

"Leticia, please escort them out of my office and reschedule."

Leticia nodded, "Mr. Albright, please come with me."

David barely noticed them leaving, nor did he see the angry expressions on their faces. All he saw was the flashing cursor on line three of his telephone.

_Your daughter_.

He picked up the receiver with shaking hands.

"Anna?"


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

_St. Michel Hospital, Paris, France_

"It's not adding up," Dan O'Toole told Anna who was sitting in the waiting room. "Marie Dupoire is a common name. There are thirty-seven Marie Dupoires living in the greater Paris area. Thirteen of them are senior citizens. None of them have grandchildren living in Switzerland and none of them live on Rue Lafayette."

Anna glanced over the sheets of paper that he held in his hand. "How did you get this so fast?"

"I have my sources."

"I can see that. Thank you."

After Alex's announcement that Leah's illness was caused by a virus, her suspicions that Cesar Faison could be linked to it were eased but, now now, after O'Toole's news, they were raised again.

"The Marie Dupoire that Robin described to you doesn't seem to exist. At least not on paper."

"It's odd and it worries me," she admitted.

"Where _is_ your daughter?" O'Toole asked her. "There are some questions I'd like to ask her."

Anna rubbed her temple. "Robin, she…I have no idea where she is." Anna vaguely remembered Robin saying she was heading to the park where she often met this Marie Dupoire, but that was hours ago. She doubted her daughter was still there. "We had an argument," Anna explained. "And she left the hospital." Robin adored her little sister, Anna was sure it wouldn't be long before she'd be back here.

"I'm going to investigate this Marie Dupoire, or whoever she is, further. Regardless of whether she has anything to do with Leah," O'Toole told Anna.

"Investigate who?" a voice behind them asked.

Anna turned around and saw Sean Donely's familiar face.

"Sean, this is Dan O'Toole, he works out of the same office as I do. For Scotland Yard," she told him, hoping to change the subject.

Sean held out his hand. "Sean Donely. Old friend."

O'Toole smiled. "Dan O'Toole. New friend."

Sean looked at them both. "So, who are you investigating?"

O'Toole saw Anna hesitate and jumped in. "I'm afraid we can't divulge. It's a work case. Confidential." He gave Anna a wave. "I'll be back in a couple of hours." He cocked his head at Sean. "It's a pleasure, Mr. Donely."

Sean waited until he was gone, before shaking his head at Anna's silence. "Damn it, Anna, are you ever going to be honest with me?"

Anna narrowed her brows. "What are you talking about?"

"Your daughter's critically ill a few doors down the hall, and you expect me to believe you're discussing a work case with your colleague?"

"What do you want me to tell you, Sean?"

"The truth maybe?" He sighed. She looked so exausted he almost didn't have the heart to be angry with her. It had been years since they were a daily presence in each other's lives and Anna had always been stubbornly independent. Who was he to think that if something _were_ troubling her that she'd turn to him for help?

"The doctors told me that they found a needle mark in my daughter's arm. I'm only doing what you taught me to do. I'm trying to find out what could have happened," she said defensively.

Sean put his hand on her shoulder, motioning for her to sit down. "Anna, do you realize what you're saying? You're saying someone _made_ Leah sick. If that's the case we're talking major criminal charges. Never mind that I'd kill that person with my own two hands."

Anna glared at him. "You don't think I know that?"

"_Who_, Anna?" he asked her softly. "Who in the world would do that to Leah?"

"I don't know," she replied, so softly it was hard to hear her. Her eyes didn't meet his. "I don't know, Sean. That's what I'm trying to find out."

"Let me help you."

"Dan's on it. He's a good guy and he's got the resources in Paris to help me out. You don't."

"The reason I'm here in Paris," he paused. "Aside from seeing you, is to bridge relations between Interpol and the WSB. After Iraq, there was some toe stepping done on our behalf that Interpol is now punishing us for, by withholding information and resources. I'm trying to turn that around."

Anna managed a smile. "They sent the right person. You're certainly more diplomatic than Robert would have been."

Sean smirked, "What can I say? The WSB is American. Diplomacy isn't our strong suit, and the French love affair with us seems to have hit a rough patch lately. But I'm trying. I met with Jean-Luc Brossard yesterday and he's seems willing to mend the ties."

Anna was taken aback at the mention of Brossard's name. He was one of the top men at Interpol, a hardliner who didn't hide his dislike of American foreign policy. For Sean to have secured an appointment with him _and_ swayed him towards certain levels of co-operation was an admirable achievement.

"What I'm saying is that I _do_ have resources at hand, and if your friend O'Toole doesn't mind, I _can_ work with him on this."

Anna contemplated the offer.

"Fine…I'll take whatever help you can give me."

Sean smiled. "Good."

She raised her eyes towards his, and for the first time since arriving in Paris Sean thought he saw a trace of trust in them.

"We're looking into a woman by the name of Marie Dupoire…"she started.

_Above the Atlantic Ocean, en route to Paris_

_-_

"You're very fidgety," the older woman sitting next to him observed.

"I'm in a hurry," David told her.

"I'm sure the plane is flying as fast as it can," she replied dryly.

"I'm sure the world won't collapse if you're late for your meeting."

David cocked his head to look at her, incredulous. "Not that it's any of your business, but I'm not going to Paris for a meeting. I'm going to see my daughter." _'My daughter.' S_aying it sounded unreal. '_My daughter', _he repeated in his mind.

The woman, who spoke perfect English with a French accent, softened her voice. "I'm sorry. That was rude of me. Perhaps it is because I've sat next to too many men who were in such a hurry to reach their destination they became rude to all those around them."

"I haven't been rude to you, have I?" he asked her.

"No. No, you haven't," she admitted. The plane shook in a sudden gust of turbulence.

"Good," David mumbled in reply.

"What's her name?" she asked.

"What?"

"Your daughter, what's her name?"

David looked at the woman, taken aback by the question. He thought back to the conversation he had on the phone with Anna, only hours earlier. To say it was brief would have been an understatement.

"_My…_our_ daughter's very sick," her voice had been halting and unsure, sounding nothing like the Anna he remembered. "Can you come to Paris?" _

"_Yes…yes, of course. Where are you?"_

"_Hospital St. Michel." _

"_I'll be there as soon as I can." _

"_Thank you."_

He had hung up the phone immediately afterwards, afraid that if he spoke to her longer she might change her mind. That she would tell him she made the phone call on impulse and that he should stay away after all. Not that he would have. Not after she'd told him the name of the hospital.

Anna hadn't mentioned his daughter's name.

David lowered his eyes, his cheeks reddening. "If you don't mind…I'm not in the mood for a conversation."

The woman nodded. "I'm sorry. Long flights bore me and I can't sleep on them. But I won't bother you anymore."

David cringed. "You're not a bother, I just don't want to talk about my daughter."

The woman next to him smiled, accepting his apology. "It's fine."

David leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, imagining the names Anna might have chosen for his little girl. She had named her first daughter after the girl's father, Robert Scorpio. 'Why do I have the feeling that's not the case this time?' he thought with a reluctant smile on his lips.

The anticipation of seeing his first and only child made it nearly impossible to sit still. He wanted to pace the aisle of the aircraft, wanted to head into the cockpit and personally urge the pilot to speed things up. He wanted to do anything but sit here and wait another few hours before seeing his daughter.

He had waited so long, well over a year since finding out about Anna's pregnancy, yet never did the wait feel as interminable and unbearable as it did just now.

He had left Seaview hospital immediately after the Anna's phone call, wanting to head straight to the airport. He'd gone so far as to call a taxi to take him there, much to Leticia's disbelief, when he suddenly remembered Ruben.

The guinea pig. He couldn't leave the guinea pig alone in the cabin not knowing when he was returning to Pine Valley.

David vaguely remembered his trip to the student dormitory where Maggie lived.

Although it was early afternoon, he'd woken her when he knocked on her door, cage and guinea pig in hand.

"_Maggie, I need you to do a favour for me…I need you to look after Ruben for me for a while. I'm going to Paris." _

_Maggie had rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "Who?" _

"_Ruben," David had frowned when he eyed the messiness of the room. Clothes, books and fast food containers were randomly scattered about. "My guinea pig." _

"You_ have a guinea pig?" She had laughed; a youthful exuberant sound that erased her sleepiness. "Since when do you…" _

"_He basically just needs to be fed. Lettuce in the morning and a carrot at night. If you're around in the afternoon he likes an apple as a snack but if you're not that's fine too. Make sure you change his water bottle once a day and that his bowl with the pellets are always full, okay?" He held up a large grocery bag. "There's everything you need in here for him. His litter should be changed every three days or so." _

"_David, pets aren't allowed in here! I can't…" _

"_You're the only I can leave him with. I put some money in an envelope should you need any thing else." He'd bent down to kiss her cheek. "Thanks, Maggie." _

_She'd given him a look of disbelief. "David, I can't!"_

"_I have to go Maggie. My daughter needs me."_

"_Your daughter?"_

Maggie had called after him, asking him something else but he didn't remember what it was. He was already out in the hallway.

Once at the airport, he'd been ready to fly stand-by on the next available flight to Paris. Had the airline personnel told him that there were no available seats; he'd have offered someone triple their fare to sell their ticket to him.

'_Your daughter.'_

He had waited _so_ long and now Anna said his little girl was sick, in intensive care.

He glanced at his watch, already on French time.

Time was standing still. David was certain of it.

He looked out the window into the cloudless horizon.

And he waited.

_Parc St. Denis, Paris, France_

_-_

Sean Donely breathed a sigh of relief when he finally spotted her, sitting on a park bench.

It was dark outside now and there were few people left in the park and the ones he did spot didn't look pleasant. One man held a bottle of beer in his hand and sang off key, another one stared at Sean for no reason, his shoelaces untied and his arms shaking in the darkness.

Sean sat down next to Robin.

"Hey sweetheart," he showed her the paper bag he carried in his hand. "Your mom asked me to try and find you. She said you needed these." The bag held three containers of medication, part of Robin's protocol, as well as a small bottle of mineral water.

"She always sits on this bench," Robin told him, without looking at him. "Every time I come to this park, she sits _right here_."

"Who?" Sean asked gently, knowing the answer.

"Marie Dupoire."

Sean could make out the tear marks on her face, underneath the soft lighting of the park's lamps. The sight tugged at his heart. He had watched Robin Scorpio grow up, watched her change from a precocious, young girl into a serious, compassionate young woman, mature beyond her years because she'd lost too much, too soon.

When he looked at Robin Scorpio, Sean often wished he could turn back time. Wished he could have protected her better and given her the carefree happiness that all children deserved.

"I don't think Madame Dupoire, as you knew her, ever existed," he said softly. As much as it hurt, he wouldn't lie to Robin. He respected her too much to protect her from the truth.

"I don't understand," Robin raised her head.

"The information you gave your mom about Marie Dupoire doesn't add up."

"How?"

"The address, the description, _everything_, Robin."

"You're saying she lied to me? That she's not some harmless grandmother," she fought back more tears. "Then who the hell is she? Tell me, Sean, does she have something to do with Leah being sick?"

"We don't know anything, Robin…it's all pure speculation at this point."

Robin was visibly distraught. "If she had something to do with Leah being sick, then it could be _my_ fault…"

Sean pulled her into a hug. "No, Robin. It's not your fault. That I know for sure."

"How?"

"We have no idea how Leah got sick and the theory that someone could have given her this virus is just that. A _theory_. A speculation based on the instincts of someone who's far more suspicious than anyone should ever be."

"Mom's instincts are usually dead on."

"I don't think they are this time. And if, _if, _your Mom has reason to suspect someone might have wanted to hurt Leah, she should have shared those fears with you and me. This is _not_ your fault," he put a hand on her shoulder. "Promise me you won't ever think that."

Robin was crying now. "How _is_ my sister?"

"She's got the best doctors in Paris looking after her. Including your aunt. They're not going to let anything happen to her."

As if one could challenge the force of nature through willpower alone, Robin thought sadly. As if Alex and the Parisian doctors could wish her illness away. _As_ _if._

"Will you take these?" Sean handed her the containers of pills Anna had given him.

Robin took two of them into the palm of her hand, swallowing them with the water Sean brought, realizing only then how thirsty she was. She had been sitting on the park bench all afternoon, waiting in vain for Madame Dupoire to show up. All her exposed skin was red and sunburnt.

Sean sat in silence waiting for her to say something, and when she didn't he extended his hand to her. "Let's go home, sweetheart. It's late, you're exhausted and the people lurking around here are starting to give me the creeps."

Robin shook her head. "She might still come."

Sean frowned. "Robin, it's almost midnight. Marie Dupoire's not going to come here tonight." He had a feeling she'd never set foot in this park again.

"I want to stay, just in case…I owe it to my sister."

"Robin, please come with me. For your Mom. She's got enough on her plate right now without needing to worry about you."

"She's not worried about me she's…"

"She _is_."

"She's angry."

Sean wanted to hug her. "She might have said some things because she's tired and not thinking straight, and you know your Mom sometimes speaks first and thinks later…but she loves you so much. She'd never be angry with you because of this."

Robin's expression was resigned, not believing a word he was saying. "I want to stay a little longer…"

Sean felt his heart break when he stared into the full moon that hung in the night sky above them. "Okay, sweetheart," he said softly, "We'll stay a little longer."

_Paris, France_

_-_

"I ordered for you," Cesar Faison told him when Jan Hallstrom sat down at the table across from him. "They almost protested when I requested the kitchen be kept open for us. Can you imagine?"

Jan loosened his tie. He had no appetite, but he knew he should eat something, so he was grateful for the gesture. "The courier is arranged," he told Faison, watching his boss's eyes light up at the news.

"Registered courier?" he asked him.

"Yes, just as you wanted."

"I want to make sure that Anna and only Anna opens that letter. There is a whole swarm of people surrounding her lately including her sister, Alexandra, and Sean Donely."

Faison spat out the last name with an unmistakeable trace of loathing. Alexandra Marick he was indifferent to. From what little he knew about her, he knew that she was a lacklustre imitation of her twin sister. He was vaguely acquainted with Charlotte Devane, a contemporary of his, who'd tried in vain to groom her daughter to take over her organization. Instead, Faison had heard that Alexandra, who preferred the boring world of lab vials and medical textbooks to that of international espionage, ended up in a mental hospital as a result of her mother's machinations.

In short, Alexandra posed no threat to his plans. She was a blip on his radar screen.

Sean Donely however, was a different matter. The spy and long-time ally of Anna's could easily complicate things. If Donely knew that he had contacted Anna, things could get messy. His only comfort was that he knew Anna well enough to know she'd never mention it to Donely. She already blamed herself for Robert's death. She wouldn't risk jeopardizing someone else life, least of all that of one of her best friends.

Yet Donely was clever. Anna not telling him wasn't a guarantee that he wouldn't find out.

Sean's presence irritated Faison. He wanted this over. He wanted to be at the estate in Russia already, with Anna at his side.

"Tomorrow night we meet Anna and we send the package with the antidote to the hospital. I'm assuming that's arranged as well?"

"Yes," Jan sighed. He wished there was still some way to reverse this suicidal plan. "If Anna agrees to meet you that is."

Faison narrowed his brows. "No…not _if._ The package goes to the hospital regardless."

"But…"

"I don't plan on killing her daughter, Jan," Faison hissed. "Dr. Savigneau gave me a time window of six days before the virus begins to damage her vital organs. Tomorrow night it will be almost four days since we injected her. That's as long as I'm willing to go, without giving her the antidote. Otherwise there could be complications. Leah could even die."

"I thought…"

Faison frowned. "You don't understand, do you? You've seen me kill too many people to understand," he whispered in the nearly empty restaurant. "Robin and Leah, are both a part of Anna. I could never kill a part of the only woman I've ever loved."

"But you're risking it," Jan argued.

"Some things are worth the risk," he said softly. "Worth going to the edge for. But no, I never intended to kill the baby. She's the only leverage I have against Anna, so I had to _use_ her, but I don't plan on killing her. Anna would never forgive me."

"So even if Anna doesn't meet with you, you send her the cure anyway?"

"Yes, of course," Faison's lips turned into a smile. "But don't worry, my friend. She _will_ meet me. And the day after tomorrow, all three of us will be in Russia."

Jan nodded. He didn't really doubt it. What mother would refuse, given the situation?

Jan saw a waiter bring him a covered plate, lifting his mood ever so slightly. He _was_ hungry, he realized.

When the waiter removed the silver cover, Jan felt his stomach churn at the sight of the plump, roasted Cornish hen that sat on his plate.

He knew he'd barely be able to choke down the vegetables and potatoes that surrounded the little chicken-like bird, never mind the hen itself.

It was going to be a long week.

_St. Michel Hospital, Paris _

_-_

David carried his overnight bag in his hand, when he finally saw her, standing in the nearly deserted waiting room, staring out the window.

"Anna…"

She turned around at the sound of his voice. "David."

"I came as soon as I could."

"I know…thank you."

Just hearing her smooth, subtle English accent was a stark reminder of how deeply he missed her.

She wore a short-sleeved black wool sweater and dark jeans that hugged her lithe frame. She'd lost weight. Her thick hair was tied back into a messy ponytail and she wore no make-up. She looked exhausted and wary of him, yet the desire to reach over and touch her was there just the same. As it always was. But now wasn't the right time, he knew.

"Where is she?" he asked her.

"Leah's in the ICU. You can go see her."

_Leah. _David's eyes widened.

"Is that her name? Leah?"

Anna nodded. "Leah Lindsay."

It was perfect. Simple. Lovely. A reminder of the only person he'd ever loved as much as Anna. His brother. How was it possible that Anna had named their daughter after him?

"You named her after Leo?" he asked in astonishment.

"Actually... the name came out of nowhere. Robin and I were discussing names one afternoon and we both liked it."

"It's lovely," he told her. It meant much more than that, but she didn't need to know that just yet.

"How _is_ Leo?" she asked, reading his mind. "Is he still happy with Greenlee?"

David's eyes darkened. "Leo died. Shortly after you left."

"No!" Anna gasped, moving a hand to her lips. "Oh God…I'm so sorry."

"It was Vanessa. She lost it and kidnapped Greenlee. She took her up to a waterfall and Leo went after them. In the end, he lost his life trying to keep Greenlee away from our mother."

"I'm so sorry, David," she repeated. "I know he meant the world to you. How..how is Greenlee?"

"She's...moved on," he sighed. "But that you named our daughter Leah, it means Leo will live on somehow."

Anna met his dark eyes for the first time. "My sister and your brother…she's named after two incredible people then."

"What's wrong with her, Anna?"

Anna shook her head underneath the bright ceiling lights of the waiting room, allowing him to see the dark, prominent circles underneath her eyes.

"I don't know. No one knows. One day she was perfectly healthy and the next she was inconsolable and feverish, crying all night."

"Has she been sick like this before?"

"No. She's been really healthy. Not so much as colic or an ear infection. She's a happy baby, David."

"What are the doctors saying?"

"That it's viral, but they have no idea what virus. So far, she's not responding to anything they've given her."

David's heart sank. "I want to see her."

Anna nodded. "I'll take you to her. You'll need to suit up. They're still taking into consideration that it could be contagious."

David followed her down the nearly empty corridor into the intensive care unit. A lone nurse came out his daughter's room, and Anna said something to her in French that he didn't understand.

The nurse left and returned with two sets of gowns, masks and gloves, and again said something to Anna.

"She doesn't want us to stay very long," Anna explained.

David put on his gown. Leah was _his_ daughter. He would stay as long as he saw fit. A sudden case of nerves made his hands tremble and he tied the gown with difficulty. Anna noticed and helped him put it on without a word.

When David finally caught his first glimpse of the infant on the too-large bed, he thought his heart might stop.

She was lying on her back, half-asleep, her arms reaching back behind her head. She had a head of black hair that matched his own, and when she sensed their presence she opened her eyes long enough to start a feeble attempt at crying.

Anna bent down to stroke her cheek. "Hey sweetie, it's okay…it's just your mom." She looked at David. "Your mom… and your dad."

David wanted to reach down and touch her but he was paralysed, unable to take his eyes off the tiny being that he already loved so much that it took his breath away.

He knew then, in that moment, that he would give up anything, _risk_ anything, for his daughter. The notion that he could love someone so deeply was unfathomable to him. But he did.

_Your daughter. _

"She has your eyes," Anna said softly.

It was true. She did.

Had he not seen her for the very first time, he would have focused on the baby's body language. He would have been alarmed that she was far too still for an infant her age and that she barely had the energy to cry.

Yet all he saw in that moment was his little girl.

"She's…" The words got caught in his throat and he had to make a concerted effort to speak. "She's so beautiful, Anna."

Anna said nothing, observing him.

He delicately ran his index finger along Leah's palm, his face shining when she grasped his finger with five little ones of her own.

"She's holding on to me…" he said softly. "My little girl."

Her skin was soft and warm against his. He wrapped his arms around her, picking her up, gently, so as not to disturb the intravenous tubes that ran into her arm, nor the monitors that carefully studied her vital signs.

He held her in his arms and an indescribable calm washed over him. As though everything in his life, all those crazy, insignificant events, had happened only so that they could lead up to this single precious moment.

"She's so warm," he heard Anna's voice, as if from a distance. "I'm scared, David. I'm so scared for her."

David met her eyes, holding Leah close. "I won't let anything happen to her. I promise you, Anna. I'll do whatever it takes."

It was the one promise he knew he would keep. _Had_ to keep.

_Anna's apartment, Paris_

_-_

Alex groaned when she heard the knock on the door for the third time. It was a harsh knock that jarred her wide-awake.

'Talk about peristent,' she thought, rubbing her eyes to check the time on her watch. She'd sleepily made her way to Anna's apartment in a taxi in the early morning, at her sister's insistence. She felt like she'd only just fallen asleep, but the hands on the watch face told her otherwise. It was almost noon.

"Damn," she mumbled, jumping up clumsily to answer the door, surprised to see the same man there who had delivered the orchid only days earlier.

"_Livraison pour Madame Devane,"_ he said, eyeing her with now familiar contempt.

"_Moi…c'est moi_," she said haltingly.

"_J'ai besoin de l'identification,"_ he told her.

"What?" Alex asked, not understanding.

"_I-den-ti-ty card_," he said slowly, enunciating every syllable, as though speaking to a child.

"As if you don't recognize me..." she mumbled. She knew he was insisting for ID to prove a point. As if some silly letter, most likely from David Hayward, was worth the aggravation.

She remembered Anna's work ID, a photo card that her sister left sitting on the wall unit, and went to grab it.

"Here," she told the courier, holding the photo card up into his line of vision. "Anna Devane…Interpol." A smirk escaped her as she said the words.

The courier grudgingly handed her a form to sign, before handing her a thick envelope.

"_Merci!_" Alex called after him when he left. "See...French! Just for you!"

Alex sighed, gazing into the wall mirror that hung next to the door, cringing at her reflection. She'd fallen asleep, fully dressed, on the sofa last night, exhausted after spending the day at the hospital. Anna had insisted she take a taxi home, while she remained at the hospital with her daughter.

'I don't know how you do it, sis,' Alex thought as she looked at her rumpled clothes in the mirror. 'I don't know where you find the strength to keep going the way you do.'

She stifled a yawn, giving the sofa a longing look, before deciding against lying back down.

'Shower,' she thought. 'Take a shower, call Andrei and Dimitri in London and then go back to St. Michel's, where I hope to God they've made some progress in finding out what's wrong with Leah.' She stretched and ran a hand through her dishevelled hair, placing the envelope on the kitchen table, atop a small pile of unopened mail.

'David,' she thought with a frown. 'I bet it's from David.' A part of her vaguely contemplated throwing it out. It would be a small measure to ensure he didn't cause her sister more grief than she was already dealing with, but Alex brushed the idea from her mind. She had no right.

By the time she started unbuttoning her blouse on the way to the bathroom, the envelope was already forgotten.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

_St. Michel Hospital, Paris, France_

_-_

David gently set Leah back down on the bed, adjusting her IV tube when one of her arms became entwined in it.

The same nurse who led them into the room, now gestured for them to come back out.

"We just got here," David protested. "I want to see her charts and I want to speak to her doctors," he told Anna.

Anna led him outside. "The nurse said she needs to record something off the monitors for Dr. Kazemi."

"Doctor _who_? I've never heard of him," David's eyes were still on Leah as he left the room, taking off his mask once outside. "I want to call in Doctor Alfred Weintraub. He works out of Mount Sinai in New York. He's one of the world's foremost virologists. I want him to look at her case. If I call him now he could be here tomorrow."

"David, she's in good hands here! They're doing everything they can."

"Good hands?" David gave her an exasperated look. "Leah's fighting off an unknown virus! These French ER doctors aren't experts in this field. They can't even bring down her temperature, for God's sake!"

Anna narrowed her brows in anger. "You don't think I know how serious this is? I've been hanging on to every word the doctors are telling me…I didn't ask you to come here so you can start calling the shots and deciding what's best for Leah!"

He put his hands squarely on her shoulders. "Anna, I'm a _doctor_…I have contacts with some of the most renowned minds in medicine. Don't tell me you don't want to do everything in our power to help our daughter?"

"My sister has the same connections you do," Anna shot back. "She didn't feel it would make sense to call in big shot doctors to experiment on my daughter."

David looked at her in surprise. "_Alex_ is here in Paris?" Alexandra Marick was one person he could have gladly gone his whole life without ever seeing again.

"She's been here since Leah got sick. She was visiting me."

David sat down in one of the waiting room chairs, feeling the jet lag creep up on him. "Alex is a neurologist…a researcher. She hasn't got a clue when it comes to viruses."

The comment renewed her anger. Anna glared at him. "I _trust_ my sister."

A flash of guilt washed over him. 'And you don't trust me, you want to add,' he thought. "I'm sorry, Anna," he said softly, watching her lean against the wall across from him. "I'm not good at not being in control."

Her irritation mellowed. "Neither am I."

"I just want to help her…" David watched as Anna closed her eyes, moving a hand to her forehead. He would have thought nothing of the gesture, had he not seen her knees buckle at the same time.

_"Anna!"_

He jumped up to catch her before she fell, wrapping his arms around her and guiding her to a chair. Had he not reacted as quickly as he did, she'd be lying on the floor now.

He kneeled in front of her, brushing a strand of hair from her face, shocked that she was white as a sheet. "Baby, what's wrong?" he said asked tenderly. He rarely felt protective of her. Anna wasn't someone who needed to be taken care of. She was the strongest woman he knew. In fact, Anna made it clear that she didn't need him to look after her. On more than one occasion. Yet when he felt the need to look out for her, David was always surprised at just how much her well being meant to him.

"I'm fine," she whispered. "I'm tired... that's all."

"When was the last time you slept? Or ate?"

"I haven't been able to…"

"Anna, don't do this to yourself. Leah needs you now."

She cupped her head in her hands. "I can't, David…I have this terrible headache, it's there all the time."

The fact that she'd admit as much made him eye her with concern. "Are you taking anything for it?" he asked her. Given her medical history, headaches weren't something to take lightly. 'Damn you, Alex,' he thought. 'You're a neurologist and you haven't noticed your sister is sick?'

"Aspirin," she said.

"It's not helping, is it?"

She shook her head.

He stroked her hair. "You need sleep, baby. You also need to take something stronger, so that you _can _sleep. I can get you something."

"No…"

"Anna, you're beyond exhausted."

"I don't want to sleep, David!"

"Anna…"

Her eyes were brimming with tears. "What if I fall asleep and when I wake up Leah's…gone?"

He shook his head vehemently. "No. I would never let that happen. Never." He took her hands in his. "I won't let our little girl die."

Anna wanted to believe him. Desperately. He could still read her well enough to know that.

"Will you let me take care of you?"

"I don't need you to…"

"Yeah, you do," he cut her off, softly. "You _do_ need someone, Anna."

On his way to Paris he thought that maybe when he'd see Anna again, he'd no longer love her as much. That they had been apart too long to rekindle what they had. After all, the reasons, _the lies_, that drove them apart, were still there. Nothing had changed on that front.

Yet after seeing Leah, he knew he loved her even more. It was a different, deeper, love. She wasn't just friend and lover, she was the mother of his child.

"You have to get some rest, baby. I need you to trust me to take care of Leah while you do that."

He could tell she wanted to say yes, wanted to let go. She'd been strong for so long now and_ that_ must have been exhausting.

"I love both of you so much. I couldn't stand it if anything were to happen to either of you. If you don't trust me, at least trust that."

Anna said nothing, but she took one of his hands into hers.

He knew it was as close to a yes as he was going to get.

_London, England_

_-_

"Here," Dimitri handed him the cigar. "You're a Marick now and you have reason to celebrate."

Andrei's eyes lit up at the sight of the fat, Cuban cigar. He'd sneaked in more cigarettes at the orphanage in Romania than he could count, but this was different. This was the real deal. The kind of thing boys in derelict orphanages could only dream about.

He took a deep, happy drag. And then he started to cough; a miserable wracking cough that sounded as though his lungs wanted to leap out of his torso.

He felt Dimitri slap him on the back, chuckling. "Slowly. You have to inhale slowly. It's not a cigarette."

Andrei handed the cigar back to him, still wheezing, embarrassed. "Maybe not today."

Dimitri took it from him, enjoying its pungent aroma. "It's okay…Rome wasn't built in a day either. You don't have to tackle all Marick traditions at once."

"What is another one?" he asked him, raising his voice above the din of the crowded pub.

Dimitri laughed, "Winning!" As soon as he said it, Andrei watched his father stand up alongside the bar counter, holding up his pint of golden ale. "Attention everyone!" His voice rose over the noise. "The next round is on me, because this morning my son won the first of many races! I suggest you remember his name next time you head out to Epsom. Here's to Andrei _Marick_!"

A round of boisterous applause rang through the pub, making Andrei laugh.

"Cheers!" Dimitri held up his glass, this time his voice was lost in the crowd.

"You are crazy," Andrei pointed out, laughing.

"Absolutely," he agreed. "But it's okay. That's a Marick tradition too."

Andrei grinned. He was having an exceptionally good day. After winning the race this morning, his buddies had taken him out to a local pub in Epsom and tonight Dimitri had insisted on driving to London and doing the same to celebrate his win.

At first he feared that Dimitri would take him to the kind of establishment where tuxedoed waiters would serve him with disdain while keeping an eye on him to make sure he didn't take off with the silverware. He'd accompanied Alex and Dimitri to that kind of restaurant twice before and he swore he'd feign illness before doing _that_ again.

But tonight, after arriving in London, Dimitri had taken him down a narrow cobblestone street, only minutes from busy Covent Garden in the West End, and led him into a small, packed pub where Andrei had promptly uttered a sigh of relief.

Andrei loved absolutely everything about London.

A year ago, living in the orphanage, Andrei believed that places like London existed only on television and in the movies. Real people didn't live like this. The only city he had been to before London was Bucharest, on a one-time school trip, and it was nothing like this. In Bucharest people lived in grey, square buildings and drove around in tiny diesel cars that left the stench of their exhausts hanging in the air long after the cars drove off. In Bucharest people worked, but here in London, people _lived_.

On warm spring evenings, like tonight, the pubs were too full to pack in everyone, so the overflow of people, chatting, drinking and laughing spilled out onto the sidewalks. Red double-decker buses, filled with commuters, whizzed by every few minutes, navigating the congested, narrow streets with clock-work precision.

After arriving in England, Alex had spent the first week here with him, in London. She had told him that although she grew up in the countryside, she'd spent most of her life here, in this crazy city that he fell in love with instantly.

She had shown him the practice where she had worked. The university where she studied. Even the restaurant where Dimitri had proposed to her.

He learned how to use the Underground, or as everyone called it, the Tube, to make his way around the city and how to take train from Epsom, should he want to come here on his own.

When he tired of the endless crowds, though he rarely did, Alex told him where to find the most beautiful spots in the city's countless parks and gardens. She had even taken him riding in Hyde Park.

One afternoon, when they sat on the steps of a sunken garden near a royal estate, he couldn't remember which one, there were so many, Alex had handed him the keys to the downtown apartment they'd stayed in.

"It used to belong to me," she explained. "Then when I married Dimitri, it became ours. I convinced him it was nicer than the ridiculously expensive hotel suites he liked to stay when on business here. And now, it's yours too. I want you to stay here whenever you're in London."

"You are not scared?" he asked. The apartment, though modest by London standards, was beautiful. It was small, warm and bright and beautifully furnished. It was a stark contrast to the huge, dark, old rooms at Vadsel that were filled with oil paintings and antiques.

"Scared?"

"That I will mess it up?"

She had laughed. "You won't mess it up any more than Dimitri already does. Trust me."

Andrei wouldn't mess it up. He knew that with certainty. Nor would he allow any of his new friends from Epsom to set foot in it.

Alex had put her arm around him then. "I'm going miss you so much at Vadsel. So will all the staff. Thank God it's a short flight here."

Andrei had smiled in response to the gesture, at ease now with her touch. "Dimitri says you will have too many excuses to come here now."

At that she had smiled. "Nah, not too many. Just one really good one."

England was going to be his home. _That_ was perfectly all right with him.

He could learn everything he needed to know about horses here. Not just their care and grooming; that he could have done at Vadsel. But here he would learn to race and he would learn to win. Knowing he had Tempus, Andrei had no doubts about winning.

Less than a year ago his best hope, once he was kicked out of the orphanage, had been to find a menial job and maybe a girlfriend who wouldn't mind someone as short as he was.

Now he was a Marick, and he _belonged_. He felt as though the world was at his feet.

It was a dizzying thought, one that brought him back to the pub, and to the present.

"Are you going back to Paris tomorrow?" he asked Dimitri, taking another sip from his glass. "Or is Alex coming here?" He felt she should have been here. It was her horse really. She had broken him, and Andrei would never forget the thrill of his first ride on him, while his arms were clumsily wrapped around Alex's waist.

After that first ride, he was certain he would never be able to match her skills on a horse, and yet, now, only months later, the thought of racing against her, on an equally fast animal often played in his mind. He would win, Andrei thought, with confidence. But then, if one of the horses they raced on were Tempus, he would insist on letting her ride him. And then his conviction suddenly clouded, the certainty gone. She would have a good chance against him.

He knew he needed Tempus to win.

"I'll head back to Paris tomorrow," Dimitri told him. "Judging from what Alex tells me, I'm starting to worry about Leah."

It wasn't the answer Andrei had hoped for. But he'd have to head back to Epsom for training tomorrow anyway.

"Can you give her a message from me?" he asked Dimitri.

"Sure."

"This." He grinned as he wrapped his hands around his father in a hug, enjoying Dimitri's sudden embarrassment in the crowded pub.

_Anna's apartment_

_-_

When Alex heard another knock on the door, she thought that maybe the courier had returned, after realizing that she couldn't possibly work for Interpol in Paris without speaking a word of French.

She had changed into fresh clothes after her shower, yet her hair still hung wet on a towel she had draped over her shoulders.

When she opened the door she was relived to see it wasn't the unpleasant courier.

"Sean, Robin…"

"Hi, Alex."

"Robin…you're all sunburnt. What happened?" Alex asked when she saw her niece's bright red arms and face.

Robin said nothing, her eyelids closing as she stepped into the apartment.

Sean gave her a gentle push towards the bedroom. "Robin needs to get some sleep. She spent a long, hot day sitting at a park bench."

Alex looked at him, not understanding. She wrapped an arm around her niece. "Let me put some ointment on your skin, before you go to bed," she told Robin, who still hadn't said a word.

Sean watched as Alex hovered over her, relieved that she was here to take care of Robin.

When Alex emerged from the bedroom several long minutes later, she gave Sean a look of disbelief. "Do _you_ want to tell me what's going on? She wouldn't say one word to me. She's scaring me, Sean."

Sean loosened his tie and sank back into the sofa. "It's a long story."

"I have time."

"Is she okay?" Sean asked her.

Alex nodded. "I hope so…but it's as though she's in shock. She couldn't even undress herself."

"Thanks...for looking after her."

Sean might not have known Alex Marick very well, but her concern for Robin spoke volumes.

He didn't believe in keeping unnecessary secrets. After a while they were too hard to keep track of anyway. "Robin thinks she's somehow responsible for Leah being sick."

"Why would she think that?"

"She left her alone with this woman in the park. And now that we're looking into this woman, nothing she told Robin about herself is adding up. Nor can we find her anywhere."

"What are you saying?" Alex looked at him aghast. "Are you subscribing to this crazy theory that Leah was injected with a virus?"

Sean's voice was calm, even as his worried expression betrayed him. "I don't know, Alex. Right now we're not ruling out anything."

"Why? Why in the world would anyone inject a baby with a virus?"

"I don't know, Alex. I have no idea." He ran the palm of his hand against his forehead, feeling his own fatigue set in from the day's events. He hadn't called his wife, Tiffany, in days. She would be getting worried about him soon if he didn't touch base with her. She'd been on a beach holiday with relatives when he had left for Paris, but now she would be back at their Boston home.

Sean stared at Alex, a possibility suddenly entering his mind. "Alex, when you were here with Anna alone, did you ever notice anything odd about your sister?"

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Just…anything really, that might have struck you as odd. Did Anna ever seem on edge about something?"

Alex shook her head. "Not specifically, no. Anna always seems a bit...on edge, I guess. I chalked that up to her past as a spy."

"Was there anything in particular that gave you that impression?"

"Why are you asking me this?"

"I think she's keeping something from me…from all of us."

Alex looked pensive. "If she is…it would make sense."

"What would?"

"She's just been…tightly strung, lately. She has no appetite and she stays up late working on cases from home. Even a few days ago when she got this delivery in the mail, it seemed like she...overreacted."

"What delivery?" Sean asked her.

"It was nothing, just a flower from David. An orchid."

Sean felt his jaw drop. "What did you say?"

"He sent her a flower in the mail and I held it up to show her, and the way she reacted, it was, in hindsight… it was _odd_."

"You said he sent her an _orchid_?"

"Yes. In spite of the sender, the flower was beautiful."

Sean felt goose bumps on his arms. "How did you know the sender was David?"

"Anna said it was," Alex told him.

"Oh God…"

"Sean, what is it?"

Sean wanted to curse himself for not having realized it sooner. He suddenly remembered the call from Anna, all those months ago. When she had called to ask him whether it was possible that Cesar Faison had survived the tanker explosion. He had told her the truth then, that he had but that he'd died years later, in another boat explosion, of all things. Sean had asked Anna why she wanted to know, and he had believed her explanation that it was a case of recurring memories that she couldn't figure out.

But it wasn't a case of Anna trying to remember Cesar Faison.

Faison didn't die on that second boat explosion. He had escaped it, just as he had survived the one in Venezuela.

Faison had entered Anna's life again. He had somehow found out that she too didn't die on that tanker and he had contacted her.

And now Anna feared that he had a hand in Leah's illness. Knowing Cesar Faison, it wasn't an unreasonable thought. Sean felt as though the ground was slipping away underneath him.

_Oh God, Anna…how long has he been making your life miserable again?_

"Sean, what is it?" he heard Alex demand for the second time.

"There was only one man who ever sent Anna orchids, and it wasn't David Hayward."

"What are you saying?"

Sean eyed her. How much could he tell Alex, without risking his friendship, and more importantly the trust that Anna had in him? Sean hated secrets. He all too well how they could sour over time. Besides, Anna needed all the support as she could get. Contrary to her wishes, one thing Sean wouldn't do, was let her fight Cesar Faison on her own.

"How much do you know about the tanker explosion that nearly cost Anna her life?" he asked Alex.

Alex shrugged. "Well...she told me as much as she remembered, when we first got to know each other, in that cabin in Northern Ontario."

"You know about Cesar Faison then?"

"Yes…he was the mad man who decided to blow up the tanker when he saw Robert coming after her. He died during the explosion."

"He used to send Anna orchids."

Alex didn't understand. "But he's dead."

"I don't believe that anymore. He's not dead."

Alex moved a hand to her lips, shocked. "What are you saying, Sean?"

"I think he's been in contact with her for a long time. Anna hasn't said anything to anyone because she wants to take care of it herself."

"How?"

"I don't know."

Alex groaned and sat down next to him. "Damn it, Sean…how could I not have known that something was bothering her? It explains so much…"

He gave her a meagre smile. "Don't blame yourself, Alex. If Anna didn't want us to know, you can bet that we weren't meant to find out. She's very good at this game." He met her eyes. "Tell me something…were there ever any other deliveries for Anna, aside from the orchid?"

Alex's eyes widened. "Yes…yes, just this morning. The same courier came by again."

Sean got up. "Show me what he brought."

Alex followed him to the kitchen table where the envelope sat, along with her sister's regular mail. "It's not a package, just a letter."

"I want to see it."

Alex handed him the letter. It was a simple white envelope with no return address. "You're going to open it?"

Sean took out a pocketknife and used it as a letter opener. "You bet I am…if it's not from Faison, I'll worry about the apologies later." He carefully unfolded the single white piece of paper inside. It was written in ink, calligraphy style, in a meticulous script. There were only two sentences yet what they said made his stomach turn.

"What is it?" Alex demanded. "What does it say?"

"It says, '_I can help Leah. Meet me at the north end of Pont D'Arcole, alone, at_ _9pm tonight. In return I promise to help your daughter.'_"

"It's him isn't it?"

Sean doubted that there was any point in having the letter analysed for fingerprints. Once he confronted Anna, she'd admit the truth to him.

"Sean, what does that mean? That Faison _did_ have something to do with Leah being sick?"

"I don't know…but if he's not bluffing and he really does know how to help her, then he had to have known how she became ill."

"What kind of a man would do that to a baby?"

Sean seethed. "He's a psychopath, Alex, and if I get my hands on him it'll be the last thing he regrets."

"But what if he's not bluffing? What if he really can help Leah?"

"Then I swear to God, he better do it…if I have to drag him into the hospital by means of grabbing on to his long, mangy hair. _The bastard will help her_. And he'll do it without blackmailing Anna!"

Alex felt her cold, wet hair against her neck and shivered. "How?"

Sean looked at her. It was a good question. Cesar Faison would be at the Arcole Bridge at nine o'clock tonight. That was all he knew. That, and Anna wouldn't be facing him alone.

Sean took a deep breath, his mind starting to work out the details of how to beat Faison at his own game. "I don't know yet," he told Alex, "But I need to speak to Anna as soon as possible. This might be our chance to get him."

She heard a knock on the door and glanced towards Sean. "Maybe that's her? Maybe my sister finally realized that even _she_ could use some sleep."

She pulled open the door, shocked at the sight that greeted her.

David Hayward stood in the doorway, carrying her seemingly unconscious sister in his arms.

The sight of him made Alex instantly defensive.

She glared at him. "What the hell have you done to my sister?"


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

_Anna's Apartment, Paris, France_

David Hayward sighed at the sight of Alex Marick in the doorway. Of all people to open the door.

"I asked you a question," his wife's sister pointed out. "What the hell have you done to Anna?" In addition to the anger in her glare, David noticed there was concern there too. It was a small consolation. If Alex Marick had one redeemable trait, it was that she did love her sister, and would go to the ends of the world for her. They might have hated each other, but they both loved Anna.

"I gave her a sedative," he tried to explain.

"One that knocked her out completely? Have you lost your mind?"

David was exhausted.

He was jet-lagged. His daughter, whom he'd only just met, was gravely ill and Anna's deadweight was starting to cramp his muscles.

He also suddenly noticed that there was another man in the room. A man he didn't recognize.

His heart sank when he realized that it wasn't unrealistic to think that Anna could have met someone here in Paris. Anna was a beautiful woman. Why _wouldn't_ she have met someone?

David glared at the man, deciding he didn't look French and that he hated him already.

"Let me help you," the man said. He had a distinctly American accent and held out his arms, ready to take Anna into them.

David held on to her more tightly. "I'm fine, thanks," he spat, catching his breath. He turned back to Alex. "Where's the bedroom?"

She pointed to a closed door. "I'm coming with you."

It was, in reality, Leah's bedroom, but Robin was already asleep in her mother's room and there was a cot set up next to the crib in Leah's room.

David shot her a threatening glance. "No, you're not."

"I want to know what you gave her."

"I'll tell you afterwards."

"No, you'll tell me _now_!"

"Alex…"

David saw the other man put his hand on Alex's arm, holding her back.

"Let him put her in the bedroom, then he'll tell us. I promise you."

David felt as though he should have thanked the man for restraining Anna's sister until he noticed that the man's glare was no less hostile than Alex's. It made his heart sink.

He had to be the boyfriend, just as he feared. 'Then why the hell weren't you in the hospital with her?' he wondered.

He forced himself to take a deep breath as he moved into the bedroom, using his foot to slam the door shut behind him, grateful to leave behind the tension of the room outside.

He saw the crib and asked himself whether this was where Anna always slept. He thought of his airy mountain cabin, next to which this room felt ridiculously small. Claustrophobic almost.

She groaned when he set her down on the small bed.

"Hey, baby, it's okay. It's just me." Shortly before leaving the hospital he had given her both a sedative and something for her headache; four strong pills he'd pilfered with ease from the hospital and which, after considerable arguing, Anna finally agreed to take.

He thought what he'd given her wouldn't take full effect until they arrived here, but when they stepped out into the hot, humid air after a long, bumpy taxi ride through Paris, he saw Anna stumble out of the car towards the apartment complex, nearly tripping and falling.

So he had simply scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the apartment.

In hindsight, given her small frame, her utter exhaustion and lack of food, it shouldn't have surprised him that the drugs affected her so quickly.

He was glad he'd insisted on coming along with her, in spite of her wanting him to stay at the hospital with Leah.

"Leah…" he heard her whisper, her eyes opening. He watched as she fought off the effects of the drugs. It was an effort that, to him, justified his decision to give her something that Alex would have considered too strong. Unlike Alex, he knew just how strong-willed his wife was. 'Ex-wife,' he corrected himself again.

"I'm going to go back to the hospital now," he told her. "But only if you promise me you'll rest in the meantime. If you don't, I won't go."

"Go…take care of her."

"I will."

"Promise?" Her voice was fading.

"Promise," he whispered, bending down to kiss her cheek. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, and covered her with a blanket. Then it occurred to him how warm it was and took it off again.

He spotted a fan in the corner and turned it on, wiping the sweat off his brow. He was starting to realize that Paris was a city devoid of central air-conditioning.

He sat down on the bed and listened to the sound of Anna's shallow breathing, in rhythm with the steady whirr of the fan. He closed his eyes for an instant, wanting to lie down next to her. But he forced the need for sleep from his mind.

He had a daughter to who needed him. A promise to keep.

David got up and closed the curtains in the room, darkening it instantly, grateful that Anna had fallen asleep. He let his gaze linger on her. It felt strange, after all this time, to be in the same room together. Awake, she was a force to be reckoned with but in sleep she looked small and delicate. Human, instead of invincible.

He yawned, not looking forward to the long, hot cab ride back to the hospital. 'With my luck, Alex will insist on coming along,' he thought. Either way he'd have to face her. Either here in the apartment before leaving, or on the way to the hospital. 'The sister and the boyfriend,' David sighed. 'Great.'

He opened the door of the bedroom, deciding to get it over with.

Alex's dark eyes were fixed on him as soon as he came out.

"How is she?" she asked. Her voice was level, devoid of its earlier hostility. Maybe the result of more advice from the boyfriend.

"She'll be out of it for a while," he admitted.

"A while?"

"Ten hours or more," he guessed.

Alex frowned. "So you come to Paris and the first thing you do after seeing your daughter, is drug Anna?"

"Well, someone had to make sure she got some rest," David shot back. "Which reminds me, _Doctor_ Marick, is there some reason you failed to notice that she was close to a break down? I suppose that's what happens when you never spend any time actually _practising_ medicine."

Alex stood up, hands on her hips. "How _dare_ you come here, after all this time, and accuse me of not looking after my sister. Where were _you_ when she was pregnant? When Robin was ill? When Leah was born? Do you have any idea what Anna went through during her pregnancy with _your _child?"

"I wasn't here because every time I called you and begged you to tell me where she was you wouldn't say a word!" he snapped back.

"You _knew_ she was here in Paris with Robin! Yet you never bothered to make the trip across the Atlantic, did you? Did you even_ try _to find her, David?"

David flushed with a combination of guilt and anger. He'd forgotten how well Alex Marick could push his buttons. It was a skill she'd perfected ever since they did their residency together in London. He was about to argue her accusations when he saw the man, who'd been quiet until now, stand up and face them both angrily.

"For God's sake…stop it! Both of you! Robin and Anna need rest and they won't get it while you two are biting each other's heads off like two pit bulls, outside their doors." He turned to Alex. "Don't you think we have bigger things to worry about right now than trying to figure out who failed to look after your sister? If you really have to blame someone, go and blame me!"

Alex blushed. "You're right, Sean. This is juvenile... I'm sorry."

"Who the hell are you?" David demanded, ignoring her apology. Sean. So the boyfriend had a name.

"Why don't you start acting like the guest that you are in this apartment, Doctor Hayward," Sean told him icily. "Don't think that you can walk in here with Anna knocked out by whatever you gave her and not expect us to question it."

David didn't like the way the man spoke to him. "You didn't answer my question."

"I'm an old friend of Anna's, that's all you need to know."

"And you're here for what? A visit?" he snorted.

"That's exactly right. I'm here for a visit. Now, you want to tell us what's wrong with Anna? Or do we have to force it out of you?"

David glared at him. The man's voice had a distinct air of authority. David didn't doubt that he was physically capable of coercing the truth out of him if he wanted to.

"Did you drug her?"

David eyed him with irritation. "Of course not. She almost fainted from exhaustion at the hospital. Because she's so strung out, I asked her to take something that would help her sleep. Combined with a painkiller."

"She took the drugs voluntarily?"

"Of course she did!" David growled. "Listen…I didn't come here to be interrogated by you…whoever you are. My little girl is sick. I don't need this." He got up and headed towards the door but the man blocked his way.

"Where do you think you're going?" Sean demanded blocking his way.

"I'm going back to my daughter!"

"Is Anna going to be alright?" the man demanded.

David wanted to deck him. "She needs rest. And when she wakes up she needs to eat something. When Leah's recovered, and Anna's in a better state, she also needs to have her headaches looked at. Especially given her medical history." He glared at Alex. "But don't _you_ worry about doing that…_I'm_ going to take care of her from now on!" Then he turned back to Sean. "And you…get out of my way now!"

Sean didn't budge.

David's anger rose. He was about to punch him in the gut, an action that the man saw coming and deflected with ease, sending David tumbling into the wall next to him.

"Don't even try…" Sean warned him, finally moving from the door.

David caught his breath, his shoulder blade sore from the collision with the wall. "Bastard," he mumbled under his breath.

"If I find out that Anna didn't take that medication willingly…then I suggest for your sake that you don't come back here."

David pushed open the door, giving them both a final, angry glance. "Anna is _my_ wife and Leah is _my_ daughter! I'll do whatever I see fit when it comes to both of them."

He slammed the door shut behind him, trying to shake off the bitter taste both of them had left in his mouth.

'Leah,' he thought. 'Leah is all that matters now.' Only after she was well would he try to cross the lion's den of Alex and Sean that stood between him and Anna.

_Inside the apartment_

_-_

"His_ wife_?" Sean asked Alex, after David left, "I thought Anna was his _ex_-wife?"

Alex managed a smile. "David's always been slightly deluded. It's the least of his faults."

"Yeah, I can see that." Sean was relieved that David Hayward was gone for the time being. "Sometimes I worry about your sister's taste in men."

"I don't like David Hayward either, as you probably guessed. I've distrusted him for a long time. For many reasons," she admitted. "But in his own twisted way, I think he does love Anna."

Sean pursed his lips, not entirely convinced. "He has a strange way of showing it. By drugging her the minute he shows up in Paris?"

"She did need sleep. Badly. To be honest, the thought of giving her a sedative occurred to me more than once the last couple of days," Alex told him, thinking that David would probably have a heart attack if he heard her defending his actions to Sean Donely. She gestured towards the envelope. "What are you going to do about the note?" Alex asked.

"I wanted to speak to Anna about it, but I see that's not an option right now."

Alex shook her head. "No…it's not."

Sean sighed. He had to discuss the contents of that note with Anna. The fact that he couldn't made him antsy. "Faison is within our grasp…I'm going to do whatever I can to make sure he doesn't get away tonight."

"How?"

"I can't do it alone. I need help. Someone I can trust."

Alex thought about it. "What about Dan O'Toole? Anna trusts him."

Sean eyed her sceptically, "I barely know him." For the first time in a long time, Sean longed for his friend, Robert Scorpio. _If there was ever a time when I could've used you around it's now, old buddy._

"Is there anyone else?" she asked him.

It was a good question. There wasn't. Anyone else. Not here in Paris anyway.

Alex handed him Anna's small, black address book. "I'm sure Dan's number is in here."

Sean said nothing as he took it from her. Anna was the one he needed. Not Dan O'Toole. He glanced at the clock that hung on the wall. It was just after eleven in the morning. They had less than ten hours to work something out.

"I'm going to head down to the hospital…to check on Leah," Alex told him. "I won't stay long…I want to make sure Robin's okay too, when she wakes up."

Sean frowned. All things considered, he didn't think either Anna or Robin would be okay anytime soon. "I'm glad you're here for them," was all he said.

"Yeah," she agreed, shaking the towel off her shoulder. Although only late morning it was already hot outside, and her hair was nearly dry. It was messy but there were too many things on her mind for her to care. She pulled it back into a ponytail and grabbed her purse. "I'll see you soon."

Sean nodded. Her resemblance to Anna when she pulled her hair back was uncanny. Eerie almost.

He heard her close the door with Anna's keys, and then started leafing through the address book, searching for O'Toole's name.

_St. Michel Hospital, Paris_

_-_

David Hayward rubbed the tiny edges of stubble that covered his chin. It felt like sandpaper against the skin of his hand. An odd distraction that served to keep him awake.

He stared at Leah through the window of her isolated room.

She was so small.

The tall, Persian doctor approached him, handing him a clipboard with a list of drugs on it. "This is what Serge suggested we try next."

Doctor Serge Fillon was one of the foremost virologists in France, called in to St. Michel at Doctor Kazemi's request.

David nodded. He was familiar with Fillon's name and, although he wouldn't admit it, he couldn't think of anything else they could do for his daughter, except that which they were already doing; keeping her hydrated and her temperature down while hoping that certain anti-viral drugs and antibiotics would eventually prove fruitful. "I want to be informed of every change in treatment he suggests."

"I've already told you I would, Doctor Hayward. We're doing everything we can."

"Good."

He spotted Alex entering the room, from the corner of his eye. "Did you come to finish your interrogation?" Seeing her at the hospital irritated him. It felt like she was checking up on him.

"I didn't come to pick a fight, no."

He bit his tongue, saying nothing.

"How is she?" Alex asked him

"She wasn't responding to the drugs. Doctor Fillon decided to put her on a different course of antivirals."

"We believe there's a good chance they'll ease the respiratory difficulty she's been having," Doctor Kazemi cut in. He gave them a curt nod of his head. "I will be back shortly."

David waited until he left before turning back to Alex. "It's his way of saying Leah's getting worse."

"The drugs did nothing?"

"They might as well have given her a placebo." He narrowed his brows angrily, hating the feeling of imaginary sand slipping through his fingers. "Why don't you head down into the lab and see if you can find us a cure, Doctor Marick? That's what you did for your husband isn't it?"

Alex looked stunned.

David felt the fatigue sting his eyes, hating that he could hear the bitterness in his voice. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "That was a stupid thing to say."

She said nothing in reply.

"How's Anna?" he asked.

"She's sleeping."

"Good." He sighed, "I didn't drug her against her will. I wouldn't." He didn't really care what Alex Marick thought, but he wanted her to know that much. "_Is_ she okay, Alex? Aside from all this madness, that is. Her headaches worry me."

"She's had a rough year... a rough pregnancy. She felt awful most of the time and then she had some problems with Robin, who got very sick, on top of everything."

"The HIV?"

Alex nodded. "She needed to change the protocol. She scared us both for a while."

"So you think it's stress?"

"Anna's been under more stress than she's let us in on," she said softly.

David eyed her suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

Alex bit her lower lip. "Never mind."

He gave her an irritated look. Alex had a way of doing that, of treating him with traces of civility one moment and then giving him the cold shoulder the next. "You don't think the headaches are cause for concern?"

"Honestly, no. She still has scarring on the brain tissue from her injuries all those years ago. Recurring headaches, usually in the form of migraines are, unfortunately, the norm for her type of injury. And in Anna's case, I've noticed, they seem to be exacerbated by stress, again not unusual."

"But she has a history of seizures…"

"I know…that's why originally I was worried as well. But she's had the seizures only when the headaches were accompanied by fever, a result of infection. That hasn't been the case recently. None of the symptoms she had last time in Canada are present this time…vision problems, dizziness, fever."

David marvelled at both the reasoning and the conviction in her voice. No wonder back when she was still practising in London, she had a reputation as a last hope for so many terminally ill patients, including Dimitri Marick. Her certainty had a calming effect. Even on him.

"I did want to run some tests on Anna, just before Leah became ill," she added. "To make sure… but if you ask me what my gut feeling is, I'd say, once she manages her stress level and takes better care of herself, I think her headaches will subside."

David took a deep breath. Not liking Alex Marick didn't mean he didn't respect her for what she was, a top-notch neurologist. If Alex thought Anna was all right, he believed it. "Thanks for that," he mumbled.

"Welcome."

They sat in silence until he saw her get up and head to Leah's room. Before leaving she turned around, meeting his eyes with hers. "I _am_ sorry, David. I'm sorry you had to meet your daughter for the first time in these circumstances."

He accepted the olive branch. "Me too."

"Just because I can't stand your guts, doesn't mean I won't do whatever I can to help my niece."

David managed a smile. He did appreciate honesty. "I know."

Her expression was serious now. "If Anna did take the drugs you gave her by choice; I want you to know that it was a huge leap of faith on her part. It was my sister's way of letting you know that she's willing to give you a chance to earn her trust. Don't screw that up, Hayward."

Alex then got up and left the room, not bothering to wait for his response.

'I won't,' he thought. 'Not this time.'

This time there was too much at stake.

His mind drifted back to that evening at the Valley Inn, well over a year ago. After the awards ceremony he had attended as part of his community service. How he had snuck into one of the ballrooms afterwards to play the piano.

Anna had found him and she sat next to him on the piano bench while he played Mozart's 'A Little Night Music.'

He had begged her to stay with him, but she didn't. And because he didn't want to hurt her anymore, he'd let her go.

David closed his eyes, his mind flashing forward to the day he first held his daughter in his arms. The love that was unlike any other he had ever felt, that washed over him that day.

Leah. Anna. The two of them merged in his mind and became one.

'No,' he thought. 'This time I won't let either of you go. _I can't_.'

_Anna's Apartment, Paris_

_Later that day_

_- _

The expression on Sean Donely's face when he came out of Anna's bedroom said it all. Dan O'Toole didn't have to ask him how it went.

"She didn't wake up." It was a statement not a question.

"I don't know what the hell Hayward gave her. It's as though she's unconscious rather than just asleep. Short of slapping her hard I tried everything…but she's not coming out of it."

"She needs rest."

"I need _her!_"

"I'll arrange for a surveillance team set up near the Pont D'Arcole," O'Toole told him. "But you and I both know that if he doesn't spot his prize possession there, Cesar Faison will be a no-show."

"This is our chance to finally get him, and if I find out he did make Leah sick, it'll be my chance to kill him," Sean told him.

O'Toole frowned. "Even if Anna wasn't out of it…I don't think setting her up as bait is the way to go."

"If Anna had gotten to that letter before me, she would have done it without any one us knowing it."

"It's insane, not to mention risky," O'Toole reminded him.

"Look," Sean eyed him with frustration. "Just because Anna's been doing a desk job for the last year and a half, doesn't mean she's no longer capable of a little set up. She used to be one of my best field agents."

"This isn't some American cop show."

Sean frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Cesar Faison is a psychopath. A killer. He's obsessed with Anna and, from what you just told me, the last time they met up, his obsession killed her husband and nearly killed Anna. Now you're suggesting he might have made her daughter sick and, in spite of all that, you want us to humour him and play right into his sick little game of blackmail?"

"Yes. Because I want to beat him at it."

"Not you. _Anna_," he corrected Sean. "If anything goes wrong it's Anna who takes the fall."

"What exactly are you getting at?" Sean asked.

Dan O'Toole was soft-spoken by nature, so when he did raise his voice, those around him took note. "I don't want her hurt, that's what I'm getting at!"

"You think I do?" Sean snapped back. "I've known Anna since she was a hot-headed teenager. I was the best man at her wedding. I would die before I'd let Faison get her! But that doesn't mean I don't trust her skills as an agent. Her specialty in the WSB was bomb diffusion, do you have any idea what kind of nerves it takes for that?"

"She's good…I get that. I _know_ that. But I also know that right now she's stressed and worried sick about Leah."

"Anna has more reason than anyone to take this guy down! She deserves to live a life without him in it."

"She also has too much at stake. Don't you get that? She'll do _anything_ for her daughter!"

Sean stared at him, slowly understanding what he saw in the Irishman's expression. "You know…I think get it now. You've got a thing for her, don't you?"

O'Toole green eyes flashed at him with sudden resentment. He was prevented from answering the question when they heard the sound of the bedroom door opening.

"What's going on?"

"Robin," Sean took a deep breath. "Hey…how are you, sweetie?" Her skin was still red and sunburnt, her eyes sleepy.

"I'm okay…but I missed a dosage of the protocol," she explained quietly, heading towards the bathroom.

O'Toole cringed, mouthing the question, 'What's wrong with her?'

Sean shook his head saying nothing until Robin re-emerged from the bathroom. Her face was sombre. "How's my sister?" she asked Sean, not questioning Dan's presence.

"Alex and David are with her. They're making sure the doctors are doing whatever they can."

"David?" Robin asked him, a hint of surprise in her face. "David Hayward's here?" She had wanted to meet her sister's father, wondering what he was like in person.

"He flew in late last night."

"I see," she paused, as if collecting her thoughts. "Has there been any improvement with Leah?"

Sean shook his head. "No…I'm afraid not."

She sat down on the sofa, observing Dan O'Toole for the first time as she pushed her hair behind her ears. "You said Alex and David are with her…what about Mom?"

Sean pointed to the nursery door. "Anna's asleep in Leah's room. She was exhausted and David made her get some rest."

"And she actually listened to him?" Robin asked. "Wow. Now I'm even more curious to see him."

"He gave her a sedative. She's pretty out of it."

"Good…I think she needed it." She looked over to Dan O'Toole. "What about Marie Dupoire, have you found her?"

"No," O'Toole told her. "But she's not our biggest worry right now."

"Then who is?"

O'Toole caught Sean Donely's angry glare and bit his tongue.

Robin turned her attention to Sean. "Who _is_?"

Sean said nothing.

"Tell me what's going on, Sean! Why is Dan here?"

Sean hesitated. "Robin…we think Cesar Faison has been contacting your mom." He turned back to O'Toole. "In fact, I think we should set up a guard for Robin."

"What are you saying, Sean?" Robin asked him incredulously. "That he's after Mom again?"

"Here…" he handed her the letter he opened this morning.

"Maybe telling her this isn't…" O'Toole started.

"She has a right to know," Sean cut him off. He remembered Robin sitting at the park bench last night, waiting in vain for Marie Dupoire. "She has a right to know that whatever happened isn't her fault."

Sean watched as Robin read the letter, watched her move a hand to cover mouth. "Oh no…Sean, this can't be true..."

Sean put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, sweetie."

An angry tear fell down her cheek. "He made Leah sick didn't he? He made Leah sick to get to Mom!"

"We don't know that for sure yet…all we know is he's offering some sort of help. It could all be a bluff," O'Toole reminded them.

Robin's eyes widened when she fit the pieces together. "He made her sick and I _let_ him. I left my sister alone with that woman."

"Robin that's not true," Sean started. "And if…_if_ that's what happened, he would have found another way. Faison would…"

His words were interrupted by a knock on the apartment door. Sean walked to the door and stared through the peephole before opening it.

"Sorry, I left the keys here this morning."

"Alex," Robin was glad to see her aunt. "How's Leah?"

Alex's expression was sombre. "She had a setback this morning…they've changed her drug treatment. It's…it's not good right now but we're hoping the new drugs will turn things around."

"And if they don't?"

"I have to believe they will."

"But you're kidding yourself!"

Alex moved to put her arms around her. "Sweetie, don't lose faith. If you're going to be a doctor you can't give up that easily." It was a gentle reproach, but a reproach nonetheless.

"I'm not giving up…I just don't like it when I'm told everything will be okay, when I know it won't." Robin looked at Sean, "So what happens at nine o'clock tonight? What if Faison's not bluffing and he can really help Leah?" She didn't know whether Alex knew about the note or not, and she didn't care.

"I'm hoping Anna will wake up sooner rather than later," Sean told her. "Whether to meet him or not is her decision, and hers alone."

Robin felt a knot in her stomach at the thought of her mother facing that monster again. At the power he still held over her. Cesar Faison had already killed her father and now he was threatening her little sister. Given the chance, Robin would gladly have killed him with her own two hands.

"I don't think it's safe to bet Anna will wake up anytime before nine tonight…Hayward said ten hours or more, didn't he?" O'Toole pointed out.

"Hayward doesn't know Anna as well as he thinks he does."

"Wait a minute," Alex cut in. "I just realized something."

"What?" Sean asked.

"Anna might not be able to be at that bridge at nine tonight but," she paused, dumbstruck at her sudden revelation. "There's another option."

"What's that?"

"_Me_. I could be there, in her place."


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

_Anna's Apartment, Paris, France_

_-_

"What did you say?" Sean looked at Alex Marick, wondering if he heard right.

"We're identical twins, we look exactly the same. I could be at that bridge tonight in Anna's place."

"Uh no… you don't look _exactly_ the same," Robin cut in, her expression as shocked as Sean's at the suggestion.

"Out of the question," Sean told Alex. "Don't even think about it."

"For a change I'm going to have to agree with Donely," Dan O'Toole chimed in. "It _is_ out of the question."

Alex raised her hand in defense. "Hey…wait a minute! I'm not suggesting I go to that bridge tonight and personally take down Cesar Faison. I'm only suggesting that maybe we could convince him that I'm Anna long enough for _you_ to take him down."

"No way," Sean barely listened to what she was saying. "Too risky. You're not trained."

"We have no idea what he wants with Anna," Alex persisted. "For all we know he just wants to meet her and hand her a piece of a paper with the name of a specialist he's having flown in."

"Tell me you're not that naïve?" Sean asked.

"Alex is right," O'Toole reminded him. "We _don't_ have any idea of what he wants with Anna. It _could_ be anything."

"That's right." Sean added. "We _don't_ know. For all we know he wants to kill her, kidnap her maybe or even make some twisted deal with her in exchange for this supposed help."

"Sean's right," Robin agreed, sighing. "It's too dangerous, Alex."

"I don't think any of you understand…" Alex shot back. "Even if Anna wakes up in the next couple of hours, which is highly unlikely, I doubt she'll be in any condition to do this! "

"Anna's resilient," Sean reminded her.

"She's also human," Alex pointed out, frustrated. "I think all of you forget that sometimes."

"What are you trying to say?" O'Toole asked her.

"I'm trying to say that Anna is in no shape to meet with Cesar Faison tonight. It's just not going to happen."

"Then it doesn't happen. End of story," O'Toole added.

Alex lowered her eyes to meet Robin's. If anyone would understand it would be Robin.

"I don't think you fully understand the severity of Leah's condition. Leah's deteriorating," she said softly. "With every day that we can't figure out how to treat her, she's getting worse. Her vital organs are shutting down." She paused, when she felt Sean's eyes on her. "Leah could die."

"But Faison could be bluffing," O'Toole reminded them. "This could all be a ploy and we're playing right into it."

"If he really can help her, and Anna finds out we didn't do anything. She'll never forgive us," Alex pleaded. "I'll never forgive myself."

"Anna would never suggest you risk your life for her daughter."

"Can't you protect me somehow?" Alex asked. "I mean, the two of you…you're WSB," she said pointing to Sean and then turning to O'Toole. "And you're Scotland Yard. My sister works for Interpol. Between the three of you, you have law enforcement connections coming out of your ears. Surely there has to be a way to arrange this set-up so that you'll get this guy without him harming me in the process?"

"But what if you end up capturing Faison before he offers his so-called help?" Robin asked Sean.

"That's exactly the problem," Sean pointed out. "There are too many variables. We don't know what Faison wants with Anna. We don't know what his 'help' entails."

"On top of that, there's one other problem, " O'Toole added. "There's no way that Interpol, or any other law enforcement agency for that matter, would take part in a set up like this; one that would endanger the life of a civilian. They'd nix it before we even suggested it."

"You're giving me all the reasons not to do this," Alex said softly. "But the facts are so simple. Leah is critically ill, and if we're willing to believe that Faison made her ill, than we also have to believe he can help her. That he at least knows _what_ viral agent we're dealing with. We also know that only one person will elicit that help from him, and that's Anna. And lastly... we know that Anna isn't able to do this tonight. _Those_ are the facts."

"Alex is right," Robin added quietly. "If Mom finds out we didn't do anything when we could have done _something_, she'll never forgive us. Maybe there is a way for you to do this Sean, and keep Alex safe at the same time."

"There's no way Interpol or the Paris police would get involved in a scheme like this. It goes against every rule in the rulebook," O'Toole reminded them.

Sean Donely said nothing, a dozen thoughts running through his mind. Merely contemplating this was crazy. Every ounce of common sense and logic he possessed told him it was insane. Yet at the same time, everything Alex said was true.

Meeting Cesar Faison tonight could be their only chance to save Leah.

"Alex is right about one thing," Sean conceded. "We _should_ be able to pull this off. All we're doing is luring a target into a trap. It takes a good plan, a few gadgets and some manpower. It's what we do for a living, isn't it?"

"Am I talking to a wall?" O'Toole asked, exasperated. "Even with Cesar Faison as the prize, you're not going to sell this plan to the Paris police, or Interpol or even the WSB for that matter. There are _rules_! And setting up a civilian goes against every one of them."

"Alright then…official law enforcement won't help us," Sean acknowledged. "Are you saying you don't have any friends, O'Toole?"

_Paris, France_

_-_

"Is there anything at all that I can say to convince you not to do this tonight?" Jan asked Cesar Faison.

Faison smiled, taking a drag from a cigarette that was leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He extinguished it in a crystal ashtray, less than half finished.

He tore his attention away from the detailed map spread out on the table in front of him and turned it to Jan. "No, my friend. Not only is there nothing you can say. There is nothing you can do. I've waited a long time for tonight."

"It will change our lives."

Faison smiled at the thought. "It will. _She_ will."

"Is there a reason you chose the Arcole Bridge?"

A smirk played on Faison's lips. "You think I'm superstitious, do you? That I chose the location because the battle at Arcole was the site of a great military victory for one of history's greatest men, Napoleon Bonaparte?" The smirk grew. "You don't think I compare myself to him, do you?"

"No, of course not. That's not what I implied."

Faison laughed. "Maybe I do. Or maybe I simply chose it for its strategic location."

"Have you considered that she might not show up?"

He shook his head, amused by the question. "She'll be there."

"She could be there with backup," Jan pointed out. His wire-rimmed glasses slipped a notch, over the arch of his nose. It was because he was sweating. Nervous. If only there was a way to turn back time. A device that would allow him to keep taking back hours and days, so that tonight would never arrive.

"I doubt it," Faison said quietly, turning his attention back to the map, only mildly interested in what Jan was saying. "If she's there with back up, she risks her daughter's well being. Anna would never put her safety over that of her children."

"Then why all the contingency plans?" Jan asked, pointing to the map.

"Because she's surprised me before. I want tonight to be foolproof. That's why I asked you to find me the best men to back me up."

"I did."

"Louis is driving the first van and Bruno the second?"

"Yes, just as you asked. Bruno flew in from Hamburg this morning for the assignment."

"And the AT Scanner?"

"It's here."

"Good," Faison announced, pleased. He smiled at Jan. "What would I do without you, my friend?"

Jan blushed. Compliments from Faison always unsettled him because they came so rarely and when they did it was without warning. "You would do fine, sir."

Faison chuckled. "Probably. But I prefer better than fine."

Jan swallowed, feeling an uncomfortable warmth creep up his throat.

"You don't look so well," Faison pointed out narrowing his eyes. "You're not getting sick are you?"

"I'm not entirely comfortable with what you have planned tonight," he admitted, swallowing.

"I know."

"I wish you would…"

"It will be fine," Faison cut him off. "By tomorrow night we'll be on the estate in Russia." He chuckled. "Maybe you need some time off, Jan. Stay on the estate with us for a week and you can go riding and Nadya can make you vegetable borscht and cabbage rolls. Put some meat on your bones. You've lost a lot of weight recently."

Jan nodded. The thought of spending a week in the middle of nowhere, miles north of Moscow, on an ancient estate desperately in need of renovations, did little to improve his mood.

He wiped his brow. It didn't matter what he thought. If that's what Faison wanted it's what he would do. He was still at his beck and call.

For now.

"That sounds nice," he said meekly. "I'm going to boil some water in the kettle for tea. Can I bring you anything?"

Faison shook his head. "No."

Jan left the room and as he did the phone number he'd long ago memorized played in his head. Haunting him.

Faison was going to make contact tonight.

As much as Jan hated the thought, he couldn't put it off any longer. He had to make the call. Tonight.

_Anna's Apartment, Paris_

_Several hours later_

_-_

"Wow," Robin exclaimed when Alex entered the bedroom. "I thought you looked like Mom before but now….I swear, even I'd have a hard time telling you apart."

Earlier Dan O'Toole had escorted Alex through the apartment's back doors to a local hair salon, in an attempt to replicate Anna's cut.

Alex wasn't convinced as she looked into the mirror. "You sure?" Like all identical twins, she felt unique and not nearly as similar to her sibling as she appeared to the rest of the world.

Robin ran a hand through her aunt's newly cut hair. It was nearly identical to her mother's style. Modern and playful, with thick, blond highlights and very different from the long, dark, unlayered hair her aunt had sported only a couple of hours ago.

Alex ran a thumb underneath the black belt she wore. "I wonder if he'd notice the indentation, if I loosen it a couple of notches. It's kind of tight." She chuckled. "I think I'm a few pounds heavier than your Mom."

Alex not only sported her mother's haircut, but also her clothing. She wore a dark long-sleeved blouse and black, form-fitting denim pants.

"You look great," Robin assured her.

Alex deftly removed both the necklace and the wedding band she wore.

"Will you hold on to these for me?"

Robin nodded, cupping her palm to take them. "Of course."

When she handed them to her, Robin noticed her aunt's hands were shaking. Robin took them into her own, rubbing them gently.

"Hey, you okay?"

Alex nodded. "A little nervous. That's all."

Robin felt guilty now for suggesting they went along with Alex's plan. "Alex…if you have any doubts, then don't go tonight. You don't have to do this. Everybody would understand if you changed your mind…" She paused, guiltily. "_I_ would understand."

"I know..." Alex slipped her hands out of Robin's grasp. "I know you would. But it's the only way."

Robin shook her head. "No…we'd find another way. Maybe he'd contact Mom again tomorrow or the day after…"

"I just talked to David at the hospital. Leah's not responding to the latest drugs."

Robin bit her lip, fighting back the tears that threatened to well up again. Her little sister _had_ to make it. Leah was the future.

Alex saw her reaction. "It'll be okay sweetie. I trust Sean and Dan. I think tonight we can get this guy. _And_ help Leah."

Robin played nervously with the necklace Alex had handed her. She wanted to argue with her. To tell her not to do it. That it was crazy, risky and insane.

But she couldn't bring herself to say the words.

Robin eyed the necklace, dangling its pendant into the light of the window. "I haven't seen this one before. Is it new?"

The change of subject lit up Alex's eyes. "It is. Dimitri gave it to me a couple of days ago when we went out for dinner, here in Paris."

Robin ran her fingers along the inscription. " '_Tempus Fugit, Amor Manet.'" _She smiled. "Dimitri's such a romantic."

"It's also the name of Andrei's horse. It's a bit of a play on words."

"It's beautiful." Robin's smile faded as she tried to imagine his reaction to their plan. "Dimitri has no idea what you're doing tonight, does he?"

Alex shook her head. "No....it's for the best."

"He would never let you…"

"Dimitri doesn't tell me…"

"He'd _freak!_" Robin cut her off. "He'll be angry, even after the fact."

Alex nodded. "I know...but I'll deal with that when the time comes. First things first. First Leah and then Faison." She smirked. "_Then_ Dimitri."

Robin frowned, the guilt furrowing its way deeper inside of her.

"Hey, it's okay," Alex reassured her. "It's not the first time he's been angry with me, and it certainly won't be the last. Or me at him for that matter. He's just as stubborn as I am, you know."

Robin raised her sunburnt face upwards to meet her aunt. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Have you ever hated someone so much that if you saw them dying, on the street, in front of your eyes, you wouldn't lift a finger to help them?"

Judging from the way she lowered her eyes, Robin was certain Alex knew what it felt like even if her response wasn't what she expected.

"You're going to be a doctor, Robin…you take an oath. To heal and save, not to play God."

"In this one instance, I would. I'd play God. If Cesar Faison lay dying in front of me, I'd speed him along."

"You say that. But I know you wouldn't."

Robin's voice was icy. "I would Alex. I swear. I hate him so much. I want nothing more than for Sean to get him tonight and lock him away for the rest of his miserable life. And when he's there in prison or tied up in a straight jacket in some institution, I want to visit him. So I can spit in his face." Robin didn't bother to fight the tears anymore, in spite of Alex's shocked look. "He stole so much from us, Alex. He killed my Dad and the result of his actions kept Mom away from me for almost ten years. _Ten years_, Alex!"

"Hating him won't change the past."

"And now, as if all that wasn't enough, he invaded our lives again," she said angrily. "He made my sister sick and now he wants to blackmail Mom! He's not a man, Alex. He's a monster!"

Alex pulled her into a hug. "Hey...it's all going to be over tonight."

Robin reached for a tissue on the bedside table and blew her nose. "I'm sorry…I don't know where all that came from."

"It's alright…you don't have to apologize."

"I love you, Alex. I don't want him to hurt you too."

Alex smiled. "He won't. Besides, I'm not as helpless as Sean suggested. For the longest time my mother tried to groom me into one of her little commandos, and between you and me, I'd like to think can hold my own against most people, with a gun or without. Even if my skills are a little... rusty."

Robin returned her hug. "Swear to me you'll be careful?"

"You bet."

"I need you around if I'm gonna graduate from med school."

Alex chuckled. "Glad to see you've got ulterior motives."

Robin gave her a smile. "Lots of them."

Neither of them heard the door opening.

"Hey there…" Sean Donely's familiar face came into view. "Mind if I steal a couple of moments alone with Alex?"

Robin nodded, grabbing another tissue before leaving the room.

"Everything okay with you two?" Sean asked.

"Yeah…we're both a bit on edge. That's all."

"Understandable. I'd worry more if you weren't."

He _was _worried. Deep lines creased his forehead and his mouth was set in an unusually hard line. "If you're having second thoughts, it's okay. We can still cancel this."

A soft smile lifted her lips. "Robin said the same thing."

"I mean it…"

"I'm good to go," she told him. "Really. I am. Was Dan able to drum up some manpower?"

"We've got seven men, not including Dan and myself, to cover you tonight. It's not nearly as many as I'd like but it's enough to pull it off and protect you at the same time."

"What about Robin? Did you get a guard for her?"

"We were going to use one of Dan's friends but Robin insisted we use him to help us out on the bridge tonight."

"Don't do that," Alex protested. "Can't you pull someone from the WSB's Paris office?"

"I can…but not without explanation."

"I want to know that she's safe."

Sean nodded. "Robin needs to know that _you're_ going to be safe." He paused. "She feels guilty about this, Alex. She needs to know she's helping you somehow."

"But not at the expense of…"

"Alex," he put his hands on her shoulders. "I agree with, Robin. I want that extra man with _me_ tonight. Robin's going to be fine. Anna's in the apartment with her."

"Anna's out cold!"

"She'll be fine. Both of them will be." Sean's frown eased when he saw the annoyance she didn't bother to hide. "God, do you have any idea how much like Anna you look like right now? She gets that exact same look when she's angry."

"Thanks…I think."

"Here," Sean pulled a clear, plastic bag out of his jacket pocket, together with a Swiss Army knife. "There's something I want you to wear."

Alex could barely make out the tiny object in the plastic bag. "What?"

Using the army knife's tweezers he pulled the object out of the bag. It was no larger than a microchip. "Personally I'd prefer to have you wear a wire, so I could hear what he's saying to you. It would give us a huge advantage. But Cesar Faison loves his gadgets. It'll be the first thing he checks you for."

"What _is _that?"

Sean held up the microchip with his tweezers. "This is the latest in satellite tracking technology. As long as you wear this chip, we can track you anywhere in the world, within a ten metre radius."

Alex eyed it skeptically. "Faison won't know I'm wearing it?"

"It's state of the art technology. Only select intelligence agencies, such as the CIA and MI6 currently use them. The scanners to detect them are extremely rare. The Mossad's moles use them when infiltrating terrorist agencies. They're as close to undetectable as it gets."

"Where do I wear it?"

"Under your skin."

Alex raised her eyebrows as Sean knelt down next to her.

"Pull your blouse out for me," he instructed her, drawing the blade from his pocketknife. He hooked two fingers into the side of her jeans, exposing the soft flesh just above her hips. "This is going to hurt for one sec, okay?"

Using the tweezer, he made a tiny cut above her hipbone and slid the microchip directly below the skin. He grabbed a tissue and wiped away the drops of blood that fell from the cut. "Smaller than a paper cut," he told her. "In a couple of hours it will be barely noticeable and as soon as you're done, I'll pull it out."

Alex nodded nervously. "Sounds good."

"We won't need it," he assured her. "It's just a safety net, that's all." He paused, observing her. "So you know what to do?"

She nodded. "Wait to hear what he has to say. If he wants to go somewhere, insist on walking."

"Don't under any circumstances get into a vehicle with him," Sean reiterated. It made sense. Anna would have the common sense to insist on the same. Or at least Sean hoped she would. "We won't attempt to get close to him until you're a safe distance away."

Her nervousness was unmistakeable now. "Don't worry about the possibility of him realizing that you're not Anna. He won't. Trust me."

"I've got a heavier English accent than she does…"

"He'll never pick up on that. We have no reason to believe that Anna's had verbal contact with him. He couldn't have followed her too closely either, not without Anna noticing it and retaliating."

"What if he asks me something specific?"

"Tell him you don't remember. Anna's had amnesia for a long time. There are still gaps in her memory. Faison knows that."

"You're right."

He squeezed her shoulders. "I have a feeling your encounter with him won't last more than a few minutes. We'll have two sharp shooters aimed at him, if he tries anything. And if you need out right away, you know the signal."

"I run my left hand through my hair."

"Right. If you give the signal we come and get you, no matter what. Even though you're not hooked up to a wire, the rest of us will be in constant communication with one another."

She managed a smile. "You sound like you've done this before."

"Once or twice." He squeezed her hand. "Try to relax and remember that we've got you covered."

"I trust you."

Sean wished she hadn't added that. Wished her words didn't come with the unbearably heavy weight of responsibility. "You've got a lot of guts for doing this, Alex" he said softly. "I hope you'll give me the chance to buy you a drink when this is all over."

"We're talking about my sister and niece, Sean. I know she'd do the same for me. But, yes, it's a deal." She laughed nervously. "I think I'll need a drink when this is done."

"Ready?"

She took a deep breath and checked the time on Anna's silver watch, "Ready."

_St. Michel Hospital, Paris _

_8:30 pm_

_-_

"_Pardonnez-moi," _the voice announced, stirring him from his light sleep. _"Je cherche Dr. Alexandra Marick. On m'a dit qu'elle est ici."_

"I'm sorry," David replied glancing at the man holding the package in his hand. "I don't understand you."

"Doctor Marick…I am looking for her."

David rubbed his eyes. "She'll be here soon. I can take it for her."

The man uttered a vehement. '_Non! Only she is taking this. She must give the signature!_'

"Why? What could be so important in that package that I can't hold it for a couple of hours for her?"

The man sat down, fingering the package nervously. His instructions had been explicit. Threatening almost. "I will wait for her."

David eyed the package, his suspicions aroused. There was no return address on it. Merely a bulky, bubble-wrapped envelope with Alex's name on it. "I can give her a call and get her permission for me to take it."

David studied both the man and the package, thinking that its contents had to have something to do with Leah. It would be typical of Alex to consult with a specialist or work on an anti-viral agent, without letting him know.

He pursed his lips in annoyance, remembering their post-graduate days, each more ambitious than the other. At the time, pharmaceutical conglomerates, vying for their respective research brilliance, had generously courted both of them. 'I thought my daughter's life would have curbed your competitive edge and let me help you with your research,' David thought angrily. 'But no, of course not, Alex, heaven forbid I should steal your thunder…' He wondered what he hated more, her arrogance, or the fact that it mirrored his own.

"Fine," he scowled at the deliveryman. "Be my guest. Sit there and wait for her."

David stood up and heard his stomach growl; a reminder that it was probably twenty-four hours since he last put anything in it. He had no appetite but he knew he had to eat to keep up his energy.

'For my daughter,' he thought, his mind drifting back to Anna at the same time. 'And my wife.'

He walked up to the nurse's station. "I want to go see my daughter," he demanded. Because she was in quarantine, he had to obtain permission each time he stepped into the room. He had to sign in and suit up, like a school child. It was a silly procedure, given that the room was neither locked nor guarded. But he knew it would give Anna small consolation, to know that he was going by the book.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the same nursing assistant who had smiled at him twice already today.

His mind drifted back to the package the man was holding and a thought suddenly came to him.

He smiled back at the woman. "Excuse me…do speak English? Do you think you could do me a favour?"

Her smile widened, "Yes, English is no problem. How can I help you?"

"My friend Alex has been held up in traffic. A courier's here to deliver a package for her and she's asked me to sign for it. But he won't…unless."

The woman's eyes lit up in mischief. "You want me to pretend I'm your friend?"

David nodded, "If it's no trouble…"

She smiled again. A teasing, flirty smile. "No…no trouble at all."

_Pont D'Arcole, Paris_

_9:00pm_

_-_

Sean Donely bit his fingernail as he observed her on the bridge. Traffic had, by Parisian standards, dimmed. Yet it was still busy enough to worry him.

He had placed two men at either end of the bridge. One each in a vehicle, and one at each end on foot. Both were close enough to Alex to help her out should Faison try anything unpredictable. All four were armed.

"No sign at the north end," O'Toole's voice announced through his headset.

Sean picked up his binoculars and observed Alex. She was leaning against the bridge's metal rail, her back to the fast flowing Seine.

"No sign at the south end," another voice followed.

"Wait," Sean said softly.

Coming out of nowhere, he suddenly spotted a man wearing a long, black coat. He approached Alex.

"Faison's here," Sean announced, his voice catching in his throat. "It's on."

-

Authors note: Many thanks for those stopping by with your feedback! Always appreciated. I try to post a chapter a week, but the next one might take a bit longer than that, as it's a long one. Thanks for your patience!


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

_Pont D'Arcole, Paris, France_

_-_

He walked across the bridge, his eyes focused on her.

His stride was confident and steady. He didn't want to rush. He'd waited so long for this moment. Rushing now would spoil it.

He liked the way she leaned against the railing, her calm matching his. Even more so, he liked the way her long hair blew across her face in the soft evening breeze.

Her eyes met his as soon as she saw him.

"You're late," was the first thing she said, her lips set in an angry line.

"Two minutes," he answered, half defensive, half amused. He couldn't pull his gaze away from her.

"How exactly are you going to help my daughter?" she demanded.

Cesar Faison smiled in the soft light of the street lamp that shone above them.

"I already have, Anna. I already have."

_Hospital, Paris_

_-_

David Hayward waited until the waiting room emptied before opening the package. When he saw the contents he gasped.

It was a small glass vial, containing a clear liquid.

"Damn it, Alex! I knew you _were_ working on something!" He ran to the nearest payphone and started dialling when he realized he didn't know Anna's phone number. He had to make several attempts in broken French before the operator finally connected him.

The voice that answered wasn't the one he expected. It was Robin.

_Anna's Apartment, Paris, _

_-_

Robin picked up the phone on the second ring.

"_Allo?_ No…Alex isn't here." She didn't immediately recognize the voice and yet she knew exactly who it had to be. "Is this David?" she asked.

"_It is. I really need to speak to Alex." _

"I'm sorry…she's not here."

"_Is she on her way to the hospital, Robin?"_

"No…she's, uh...no, she's not." Robin cringed. David had been at the hospital all day. He had no idea what was happening tonight.

"_Then where is she?" _

"Why do you need to speak to her so urgently?" Robin asked, suddenly afraid. "Is Leah okay?"

"_Leah will be fine, but Alex has done some research that I need to speak to her about."_

Robin's expression changed, puzzled. "Research? Alex hasn't had the time to do any research? What makes you think she did?"

"_There was a package that arrived for her…listen I don't want to go into any details, please, when you see Alex, tell her I need to speak to her. And, Robin...how is your mother?"_

Robin ignored the question, a surge of panic rising in her. "What do you mean you got a package?"

"_Robin how's Anna?"_

"Tell me what kind of package you got."

"_Why are you asking? Do you know something about what Alex's been up to?"_

"I don't think Alex has anything to do with your package…can you just tell me what's in it?" Robin felt her patience thinning. She knew Alex had no lost love for David Hayward, but because he was Leah's father, Robin was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. A willingness that was quickly fading.

"_It's a vial." _

Robin's mind drifted back to the note she read. Faison's note. "I think…that maybe what's in that vial could help Leah."

"_I was thinking the same thing. That's why I need to speak to Alex."_

Robin clenched the receiver. "No, damn it! It's got nothing to do with Alex…"

"_What do you mean?" _

"Get whatever is in there tested as soon as you can!"

She heard the tone of his voice change in response to the urgency in hers.

"_Alright, alright…I will."_

Robin slammed down the receiver and looked at her watch.

It was 9:06pm

If Faison's 'help' had already arrived at the hospital, they could stop the set up. They could still get Alex away from Faison.

'Sean,' Robin thought, her mind racing. 'I have to get in touch with Sean.'

She remembered the cell phone number he left her on a piece of paper and ran to grab it.

_Pont D'Arcole, Paris _

_9:07pm _

_-_

The wind had increased, in spite of the impending nightfall, and the temperature, with typical Parisian unpredictability had taken a sharp dip from that of the previous days

"How?" Alex demanded, with a bravado she didn't feel. "How did you help my daughter? How is it that you're _able_ to? Explain that to me."

"Leah has a virus and I have a team of laboratory researchers working for me in Marseilles."

"I don't believe you...I believe you know what's wrong with my daughter because you _made_ her sick," Alex seethed. Conjuring up Anna's hatred for him wasn't difficult.

His hazel eyes stared at her without blinking, soaking her in, as if to make up for lost time. His fixation was so intense, Alex wondered if he would have noticed a car crashing on the bridge right next to him.

She shivered in the wind, uneasy in his unrelenting stare.

'How can he not know that I'm not her?' Alex wondered, fearing the answer. He was looking through her and yet he didn't see her. 'Maybe he _does _know?' It was a crazy thought. If he did know he wouldn't be here talking to her still. _Or would he?_

She tried to hold her own against his stare. Observing his every expression brought out his physical features with frightening clarity.

To say that Cesar Faison was an unattractive man would have been an understatement.

He had an angular face with oddly wrinkled skin; deep folds that prematurely etched the scars of time on his harsh features. Even when he smiled, his thin lips were set in a permanent downturn, as if the effort pained him. Framing that chaos of a face was a thick mane of brown-grey hair, grown to an unconventional shoulder length. It was tied back loosely, so as to let several straggling strands escape and hang over his ears, distracting her.

All features combined made for a face that would be hard to forget.

If his face had one redemptive feature, it was that his hazel eyes were full of obvious intelligence.

"I needed a way to get your attention, Anna," he said, still boring his eyes into her. "I needed a bargaining chip because you wouldn't listen to me otherwise. You're so stubborn. You never give me many options, Anna."

His utter lack of remorse made her feel sick. Disgusted.

Alex wondered how it was possible to feel such loathing for a man she barely knew and she did the only thing that made sense in her blind anger.

She pulled back her arm and hit him across the cheek, with such force that it sent a searing white, heat across her palm.

_Near the Pont D'Arcole_

_-_

Sean Donely watched the scene unfold before his eyes, nervous at first, as he anticipated Faison's reaction to the slap. Then he allowed himself a brief smile.

"You're pretty good at playing Anna," he whispered to himself, focusing his night vision binoculars.

"That was unexpected," he heard O'Toole remark in his earpiece.

"It was very Anna," Sean replied. Nonetheless, the exchange was starting to worry him. Cesar Faison made no visible move to offer Alex anything. Whatever help he was offering wasn't tangible and that made Sean increasingly anxious.

He heard the ring of his cell phone in the background and quickly turned it off, chiding himself for leaving it on. 'You're getting old,' he scoffed.

Any distraction at a time like this could have catastrophic repercussions.

_Anna's apartment, Paris _

_-_

"Damn it, Sean!" Robin cursed. "Pick up!"

She tried twice more before slamming her receiver down in frustration. "You can pull Alex out of this! She doesn't need to be there anymore! How am I supposed to tell you that if you don't let me get in touch with you?"

She grabbed her hair and pulled it into a ponytail, making an effort to focus. Little gestures had a way of doing that. They helped her concentrate.

"I could really use you just about now, Mom…"

Robin pulled open the door of Leah's bedroom where her mother was still asleep, and kneeled down next to the bed, shaking her mother.

"Come on, Mom…I need your help. I'm not good at this secret agent stuff."

Her mother groaned in her sleep and whispered something Robin couldn't make out.

"Come on, wake up, Mom!" She shook her again, less gentle this time, with similar results.

"Geez, David…what the hell did you give her?"

Robin stood back up, her hands on her hips, forcing herself to think. 'The hospital…I could at least go to the hospital and see if David's found out what's in that vial.'

She debated leaving her mother alone in the apartment. She would, at the very least, be disoriented when she woke up. And if anything went wrong at the Arcole Bridge, her mother could be in danger as well.

Robin bit her lips, glancing at her sleeping form. 'What would you want me to do?' Her gaze drifted to a photo of the three of them, Leah and Robin and her mother, on the night table stand.

'Leah,' Robin thought. 'You'd want me to put Leah first.'

Robin closed the bedroom door and grabbed her purse and keys, before racing out of the apartment.

_Pont D'Arcole, Paris_

_-_

Cesar Faison didn't do so much as raise his hand when she hit him. He bore the bitter sting of her anger without flinching, even as a nearby pedestrian gasped in shock at what she did.

"I know you're angry with me…" he started, calmly.

"_Angry_?" she replied, her dark eyes full of unapologetic rage. "Angry doesn't begin to describe how I feel about you."

"I'm going to help your daughter."

"Only because you want something from me."

"All I want from you in return, Anna, is a chance."

She shivered in the nighttime chill.

"A _chance_?" she demanded. "A chance for what?"

He took off his coat and draped it over her. "A chance for me to prove to you that I'm not the monster you think I am."

She laughed a cynical laugh, tossing off his coat. "It's a little too late for that, don't you think?"

Even in her anger, she was beautiful. Not the lifeless, generic beautiful of models in fashion magazines but the magnetic beautiful of someone who lived passionately because it was the only way she knew how to live. She possessed enough favourable attributes that would have made her attractive to any casual observer but the essence of _his_ attraction to her went far beyond the physical.

He had never met anyone as alive and as conflicted as he was. Not until he met Anna.

Anna, who could fence a stolen jade because it excited her. Anna, who would lay down her life for the man she loved. Anna, who diffused bombs because it was a challenge. Anna, who would move mountains to keep her daughters safe.

Anna Scorpio, police chief. Anna Devane, jewel fence.

Wife. Mother. Lover. Saint. _Sinner_.

She embodied everything that was good in him, or perhaps it was fairer to say she was everything he _yearned_ to be, and knew he never would be. Yet at the same time, she understood the allure of the forbidden. She understood its power and its pull. Anna didn't deny herself the need to occasionally cross into his world, in order to live fully in hers.

Faison knew he would never again meet a woman like her. A woman who understood both that which he was, and that which he yearned to be.

Out of nowhere, a white van pulled up by the sidewalk and came to a stop next to them.

Faison grabbed Anna's upper arm with one hand and drew his other arm over her shoulder, pulling her not into the van but pushing her around it, to the other side, where an oncoming car honked his horn at them.

She fought him, as he expected her to, almost freeing herself from his grasp until she saw a second van pull up right next to the first one, stopping both lanes of traffic and trapping them between the two vehicles.

A man leapt from the first van, pulling her into it. Faison stepped in after them, taken by surprise when Anna kicked him in the groin and nearly pushed him back out of. His man, Julien, grabbed her and threw her to the ground, angering Faison.

"Don't hurt her," Faison chided, straightening himself after her blow, ignoring the pain it sent shooting up his body.

"She's gonna hurt _us_ if we don't control her."

"Control her, but don't hurt her," he warned Julien.

A second man emerged from the front of the van, holding a hypodermic needle in his hand. "This should take care of the control problem."

Faison watched as she made another attempt to fight off Julien, cringing when her attempt elicited a shove against the van's wall.

"Please, Anna. Don't make this difficult," he pleaded. "Don't make us hurt you."

He stood still while the needle made its way into her arm. Faison knew he should have helped them but he didn't have the heart to manhandle her. It was perhaps his greatest weakness; his inability to watch Anna suffer.

"Scan her before you leave," he reminded them. Normally he'd have reprimanded them for needing the reminder in the first place, but given his own inability to help them subdue her, he said nothing. Jan had told him the AT scanner was overkill, that the chances of her wearing a device that needed its powers of detection were slim to none. Faison had ignored him. Overkill was better than the possibility of anything going amiss.

He watched as one of his men hovered the device along her body, while the other held on to her. Relieved to see its green light trace her body's outline.

Faison watched her fight a losing battle against Julien's strength and the effects of the drug.

"Coward," she spat at him, her eyes glistening. "You can't even do your own dirty work!"

The scanner's red light suddenly flashed when it ran over her hip.

"Well, what do you know!" the second man exclaimed in delight. "She's wearing one after all! An alpha tracking device, I'll be damned." In seconds he exposed her skin and spotted the tiny line of the cut where it had been inserted.

The man used his fingernails to rip it out, making Faison wince. He wanted to yell at him for his barbarism, but Faison knew he'd done the right thing. Pulling out a knife to do it would have wasted precious time. And the microchip confirmed that which he didn't want to consider. That she was here with back-up. That Sean Donely and God knows who else were tracking her every move.

It also confirmed that they had no time to waste.

"What do you want to do with it?" the man asked him in French.

"Toss it out, next to the other van," Faison told him. "And get out of here. _Now!"_

_Near the Pont D'Arcole_

_-_

"They were hidden between the two vans! There was no way to tell which van he dragged her into…we tried, but there was no way. He was draping himself over her. We couldn't take a shot," a voice spoke into his ear.

"Damn it," Sean muttered under his breath. "Follow the first van," he ordered the man on the south side of the bridge. "And call the police for back up! R_ight now_!" The fact that tonight could cost him his job didn't matter anymore. All that mattered now was Alex.

"No…_wait!"_ Sean heard O'Toole in his ear piece. "I think he's playing us…she's in the second van!"

The first white van had already driven off the bridge and the second remained standing on it, unmoving, in spite of the blaring horns from the angry drivers stuck behind it.

"The AT tracker's telling me she's in the second van! The one on the bridge!"

"Are you _sure_?" Sean felt the slightest twinge of relief, grateful that he'd insisted on her wearing the tracking chip.

"Absolutely. He's trying to mislead us. To get us to follow the first van," O'Toole replied. "I want all men down there, to make sure the second van doesn't go anywhere."

_All men. _Sean felt a shiver run up his spine at the words. There were only nine of them, one of whom was following the first van. They were woefully under equipped for this kind of operation.

"I'm calling in the police to the bridge," Sean heard O'Toole say. He had to be thinking the same thing. "I'm on my way down there."

"Good," Sean mumbled about to follow suit.

"Do you still want me to follow the first van?" he heard another voice ask through his earpiece.

"Stay on him and get police back up for that vehicle as well," Sean reiterated, running down a flight of concrete stairs on his way to the bridge. He took two steps at a time, almost knocking over a pedestrian.

Faison had the advantage now. He had Alex inside the van.

The only thing they could do now was to make sure that van didn't move off the bridge.

Sean heard the sound of sirens in the distance, next to the frantic beating of his heart as he kept running towards the bridge. He spotted the white vehicle in the distance. Three of his men already surrounded it and shot the air out of its tires to prevent it from driving off.

He heard pedestrians yelling and saw drivers jumping out of their vehicles to get away from the stationary white van, shocked by the three armed men that positioned themselves next to it.

Coming up behind him, Sean saw O'Toole running towards the van, his gun drawn.

Both men ran to the front of the vehicle, trying to glimpse inside its only window. There was no one in view. If he didn't know better Sean would guess the vehicle was empty.

"Wait for the police," O'Toole told him, as he inched a step closer.

O'Toole was right, Sean decided. Neither of them were wearing a bullet-proof vest. Trying to storm the van now could easily get them both killed.

'Why the hell would you do this, Faison? This makes no sense,' Sean thought as he stepped away from the van. 'You're trapped in there now. There's no way out. It's suicide.'

A vision of Cesar Faison holding a gun to Alex's temple crept into his mind and Sean tried to shake it off. Unsuccessfully.

"Get away from here!" he yelled at a young, curious bystander, undaunted by the fact that everyone else on the bridge was fleeing the scene.

Dozens of empty cars surrounded the white van, making it look like a scene from a post-apocalyptic movie. At the ends of the bridge, crowds of shocked onlookers gathered to watch the drama unfold.

"_I trust you."_ Alex's voice echoed in Sean's ears.

It was the last thing he heard before the deafening sound of more sirens filled the air and police cars blocked off the bridge.

_Hospital, Paris_

_-_

Robin had gone to see her sister, surprised that she didn't find David Hayward nearby.

"Hey princess," Robin stroked her sister's arm when a nurse entered the room.

"_Est-ce que vous avez vu son pere?" _Robin asked her anxious to find David.

"_Il est alle au laboratoire,"_ the nurse told her. _"Je sais pas pourquoi."_

'_I_ know,' Robin thought with a frown. 'I know exactly why he went down to the lab.'

She gave her sister a kiss on the forehead and rushed out of the room, throwing her mask and gown into a contagion bin, before heading for the lab in the basement.

When she arrived there, Robin knew immediately which one of the three men present was David Hayward.

The one with her sister's jet-black hair.

"David…" she said softly, watching him turn around at the sound of her voice. He looked exhausted and sported a three-day stubble. Even so, he was handsome. In fact, his outright handsomeness surprised Robin. He seemed too attractive, _too magnetic_, for her mother's taste.

He managed a smile as his eyes, _Leah's eyes_, lit up in recognition. "Robin."

"I see you took my request to heart," Robin told him, pointing to the microscope. There were so many other things she wanted to say to him but now wasn't the time.

David stared at her. "Robin, how did you know what this was? Did Alex tell you about this research she was doing?"

Robin frowned. "This package has nothing to do with Alex. She didn't do any research behind your back." She leaned over the counter towards the microscope, tugging a strand of hair behind her ear. "What did you find out about the contents of the vial?"

"Take a look," he invited her.

"What am I looking at?" she asked gazing into the electron microscope.

"I took two blood samples from my daughter. Here's the first one…"

"Okay…"

"And here's the second," he said aligning the copper grid that held the collodion film with the sample. "The one that's been treated."

"Oh my God!" Robin exclaimed. "Whatever it is…it's attacking the virus!"

David nodded. "It's attacking it with astounding speed." David took a deep breath, lowering his voice. "I think whatever's in that vial could cure Leah."

Robin slumped down on the lab stool. "But we have no idea what exactly it is. It's unknown, untested…you can't just inject her with that. Yes, it could cure her but it could also kill her, along with the virus."

David sat on a stool next to her. "Tell me Robin, when I was on the phone with you...you told me to get it tested right away…_how did you know_?"

"Something happened this morning at Mom's apartment," Robin paused, unsure how to tell him, or even whether she should. 'But you'll find out soon enough,' she thought.

"What happened?"

"A letter came via courier for Mom. From Cesar Faison."

David concentrated at the mention of the name. "That's the man who almost killed Anna when he set a boat explosion with her on it, right?"

"Yes." Robin nodded. "He _did_ kill my Dad."

"I thought he died on that boat?"

"We all did. But we were wrong."

"What does he want with Anna?"

"He sent her a note saying he would 'help' Leah, if she met with him."

David's eyes narrowed with disbelief. "What are you saying, Robin? That she went to meet with him? How c_ould_ she in her condition? She was passed out by the time we got to the apartment this morning."

"You're right," Robin lowered her eyes. "She couldn't. Thanks to you."

"Thank God." David's relief was palpable. He turned to the vial. "But Faison sent this anyway?"

"Mom didn't meet with him." Robin paused, still feeling guilty for her relief. "But Alex did."

"_Alex_?"

"They decided it was the only way to help Leah...that with a few minor adjustments, Faison wouldn't be able to tell the difference."

"But this guy's a killer?"

Robin nodded. "Sean and O'Toole and a bunch of others are backing her up but… still, I'm scared for her."

David looked like he was trying to digest what she was telling him. "What do you mean, ' a bunch of others' ? Are you saying they're entrapping this guy on their own? Are they _insane_?" He ran a hand along his stubble. "And Robin…how is it that this Faison is able to help Leah? How does he have _that_?" he demanded, pointing to the microscope.

Robin frowned. "I think it's best that Mom explains that one to you." She glanced at the microscope. "What are you going to do to get that tested?"

"Tested?" David asked the question as though it was absurd. "We don't have time to get this thing tested! Leah needs this _now!_ And what's in that vial is all we have."

Robin didn't think she heard right.

She vaguely knew that David Hayward threw the rulebooks out the window when it came to his research and that he'd used untested drugs on patients before but she didn't think he was downright insane. At least not when it came to his own daughter.

"Are you crazy? You have no idea what other effects this serum could have!"

"Actually," he whispered, turning around to make sure no one was observing him. "I do. Or at least I _will_."

David drew back his shirtsleeve to reveal a band-aid on his arm. "I injected it as soon as I saw the result of the lab test."

_Anna's Apartment, Paris_

_-_

Anna opened her eyes slowly, sleepily, stretching on the bed and relishing a feeling that she only vaguely remembered. The feeling of waking up well rested.

She glanced up at the crib next to her, wondering why she'd been asleep in Leah's room. As she rubbed her eyes, she slowly began to remember.

She remembered David at the hospital. Remembered him handing her four small white pills. She'd swallowed reluctantly, while at the same time welcoming the momentary relief they promised. Relief from an exhaustion so deep she could no longer form a single coherent thought.

She remembered getting into a taxi with him, sitting in silence, in the heat of the car, as they drove here.

But she couldn't remember making her way from the taxi to the bedroom.

A second glance at the crib jolted her back to the present. "Oh God…Leah!"

She swung her legs over the bed and stood up, a rapid action that made the room spin around her and her knees drop down to the floor.

Anna closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Great…" she mumbled. She noticed for the first time in what seemed like weeks, the headache that had accompanied her everywhere was gone. Instead she felt light-headed and ravenously hungry.

The room still spun around her as she made a second attempt to get up, gingerly this time, testing her legs in the process.

"Robin," she called out, feeling like her voice was not her own, and that it was barely louder than a whisper.

She walked out into the living room and then opened the door of her bedroom, surprised to find both rooms deserted. "Alex?" she called out. "Sean?"

Her legs were still unsteady and Anna sat down on a chair, scanning the top of the dining table for a note of any kind.

'Where the hell is everyone?' she thought, starting to panic.

Could everyone be at the hospital with Leah?

Her panic deepened, until she heard David's voice again.

_"I won't let our_ _little girl die."_

Anna grabbed her keys from the table, about to rush out of the apartment, until she saw her reflection in the hallway mirror.

She was pale. Her hair was dishevelled and her wrinkled clothes made it clear that they had been slept in. 'I look like hell,' she thought, cringing. She forced herself to set the keys back down on the table.

'A shower…a shower and some food,' she told herself, leaning against the wall. 'Shower and food. Then you can go to the hospital.'

_Airfield, 40 kilometres north of Paris_

_-_

Jan Holstrom looked up into the evening sky, impressed by the thousands of stars visible to the naked eye. Being a creature of the city, he rarely bothered to look at the stars at night, not that the bright lights of Paris or Brussels or Amsterdam would have offered many for him to view.

The estate they were headed to, in Russia, was located in the countryside, several hundred miles north of Moscow.

'I bet they're even brighter there, in that godforsaken place' he thought glumly. 'Maybe Anna will find some solace in them.'

Jan didn't particularly care for Anna. More than anything, her existence irritated him because it was responsible for complicating his life. Yet at the same he wasn't sadistic. And what Cesar Faison had in mind _was _sadistic.

Jan had no doubts that his boss truly loved Anna, but he didn't think taking a mother from her infant child and carting her off to a once deserted royal estate, in the middle of rural Russia, was really the way to show her.

His thoughts were interrupted by a man's voice, announcing that the jet was ready for departure as soon as Faison and Anna arrived.

"_Merci_," Jan replied, turning towards the sleek Lear jet that sat on the tarmac of the airfield. They would fly from here to Strasbourg, near the German border, then continue from there directly to Moscow, where Faison's connections with the local Mafia would ensure smooth passage through customs. Then lastly, if everything went well, there was the long drive to the estate.

'Then we wait,' Jan thought, relived to find his earlier nervousness almost gone.

Two days ago, the thought that he could somehow stop Faison from carrying through with his insane plan had made him horribly nervous. He hadn't slept for days, and his nerves, coupled with his newfound revulsion for all things feathered, had made it nearly impossible to eat.

But now he felt himself relaxing.

Faison had stormed ahead with the plan.

Whatever happened now was out of Jan's control. It was inevitable.

Jan knew what he had to do and whatever happened as a result was also out of his hands. He had long ago made an irresistible deal that nourished his love of diamonds and now it was time to pay.

It could mean the death of Faison, or Anna, or even himself. The thought of his own demise depressed him because there were so many things Jan had planned on enjoying in his old age. Things that would have been so easily obtainable given his newfound wealth. There were so many paintings he had yet to see, smooth, marble sculptures to run his hands along and so many operas he had yet to listen to.

The thought of dying without having seen the glory of the Sistine Chapel almost made him weep.

Jan sighed, as he spotted a lone payphone and began walking towards it.

He had put it off as long as he could. Now it was time.

He had to make the call.

_Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of the Congo, Africa_

_-_

Robert Scorpio wiped the sweat off his brow.

The ceiling fan that had whirred in his office yesterday decided to stand still today and as a result, the air was thick, humid and stagnant.

He picked up the phone in frustration. "Saunders here. I phoned several hours ago to have someone have a look at my ceiling fan!" He sighed when he listened to the unapologetic explanation for the delay. Something about another more pressing maintenance problem.

Robert slammed down the phone and took off his jacket, hanging it over the back of his chair. Then he loosened his tie and stared at the unmoving blades of the ceiling fan above him. In Africa, knowing how to fix things was an essential skill. Because nine times out of ten, if you didn't do it yourself, it simply didn't get done.

'How bloody hard can it be to get that thing moving again?'

He reached into his jacket pocket, fishing for his thick Swiss Army knife. It was old, heavy and silver. Different from the newer, bright red models. On its surface were the initials _R.S_ and in this case they didn't stand for Roger Saunders, but for Robert Scorpio. The pocketknife had been a long ago birthday gift from Sean Donely and it had fixed more than one mechanical problem in Africa.

When he reached into his pocket, the first thing Robert grasped wasn't the knife but a small, blue container.

Holding it in his hand made him sit back down at his desk and run fingers over its velvet surface. He opened the small box, smiling at the way its contents shone in the artificial light of his office. It was a single, perfect Congolese diamond sitting atop a gold ring.

He'd been carrying it in his pocket for almost a month now, and Robert frowned when he noticed the wear and tear on the velvet cover of the container.

He would have to head back to the jeweller and replace the box with a new one.

'And then wait another few weeks... before you work up the nerve to ask her,' he thought woefully. It was a beautiful ring, with a diamond that was almost as stunning as the woman he intended to give it to.

Sandrine Mutanga had given him a new lease on life. She'd slowly, gently, pulled him from the past into the future. Even more incredibe; she loved him.

Subconsciously, his other hand reached into the narrow fold of his pocket that kept his one link to the past, pulling out the old photo of Anna and Robin.

'The past and the present,' he thought sadly.

Robert remembered the day he'd gone out to purchase the ring. The same day he had received the latest photo of Anna from the WSB.

A photo of a very pregnant Anna.

Although he denied it, the photo had affected him deeply.

Anna had moved on. Not that he hadn't expected, or even _wanted_ her to, but the knowledge that she was now carrying another man's child gave him a whole new clarity. It forced him to face the facts.

Robert Scorpio was dead and Anna Scorpio was safe. Or more precisely, she was safe _because_ he was dead.

It was time to move on.

Robert did love Sandrine, although he never admitted as much.

'I didn't buy that engagement ring because I saw that Anna is pregnant,' he reminded himself. 'I bought it because I love Sandrine.' It was another fact that he was forced to face. That he could no longer imagine a life without her in it.

He played with the diamond ring, forgetting about the broken ceiling fan. 'But just because you suddenly realized that you love her, doesn't mean she'll accept this,' he reminded himself. 'Nor does the fact that she loves you mean that she wants to marry you.'

Merely thinking about the ensuing complications made him want to toss the ring back into his jacket. Her father would have a fit. They would no longer be able to work together. She was almost half his age…maybe it was best to…

"Did you finish the paper work on the Kamitatu case?" he heard a familiar voice ask him, interrupting his thoughts.

Taken aback by Sandrine's sudden presence, Robert barely had time to shove the ring and its worn box into his office drawer. "No…I, uh…I was busy melting."

Sandrine raised an eyebrow. "Melting?"

Robert pointed towards the broken ceiling fan.

"Didn't you call maintenance?"

Robert smirked. "I did. But only because I enjoy exercises of futility."

Sandrine chuckled. "That'll be the day." She moved next to him, close enough for him to smell a hint of her jasmine fragrance. He was rarely close enough to her lately to smell it and its aroma now made him aware of how much he missed it.

She hadn't slept with him since he had shown her the pictures of Anna and Robin. He had suggested that they spend Christmas together and she'd turned him down. Since then he hadn't pressed her. Robert wanted her to come to him of her own volition. Yet at the same time he often wondered whether she might have met someone else by now.

"Why don't you let me do it then?" she told him.

"No. It's late."

Sandrine looked slightly irritated. "The director wants it first thing tomorrow morning."

Robert smiled. Her English was flawless now. Sometimes he thought he could even hear traces of an Australian accent in certain words she used. "You think I won't do it on time?"

"No, I didn't say that, but I do I think you will spend the next two hours trying to fix the fan. I don't want you to have to spend the night here."

Robert shrugged his shoulders. "Why not? I have nowhere else to be."

He thought he saw her dark skin darken as she blushed. She wasn't officially working today, so she wore casual jeans and a bright orange top that matched the orange beads in her long braids. Looking closely, Robert thought he saw a hint of orange in her lipstick as well.

No matter what she wore, how simple her outfit, or where in the world she was, Sandrine always turned heads.

Amused now, she mimicked his shoulder shrug. "Fine. Do it yourself. I will see you tomorrow." She was about to make his way out of his office

Robert eyed the drawer holding the ring. "Sandrine…wait."

"What is it, Robert?"

"Can I take you out for dinner tonight?"

She smiled. "You have paperwork to do and a fan to repair."

"To hell with the fan," his lips lifted in response to her smile. " And the paperwork can be done in an hour."

"Robert, I…"

"Please?"

She averted his eyes. "I have other plans."

Robert felt his heart sink. Maybe it was too late. Maybe he had lost her already.

He managed a grin but the cockiness he aimed for barely succeeded in hiding his disappointment. "Cancel them."

"I can't."

He thought he heard a touch of irritation again.

"Sandrine, there's something…"

The ringing of the phone interrupted him, leaving his words hanging in the stifling air.

"Maybe you should get that," Sandrine told him.

Only then did he realize it wasn't his desk phone that was ringing, but his cell phone. He couldn't think of anyone that knew of its number. Except Sandrine, who was standing in front of him.

Robert pulled it from his pocket and answered it, shocked when he heard the voice on the other end.

Sandrine noticed his reaction, her irritation was suddenly replaced by concern. "Robert, what is it?"

"Could you please leave," Robert told her calmly.

"No," Sandrine shook her head. "Tell me what it is."

"Sandrine, I need you to leave."

Sandrine's eyes widened at the possibility of what the phone call could mean. "It's not Robin, is it? Or Anna?" She barely mouthed the names, knowing he would never want to hear them aloud in his office.

"Just go, _damn it_!"

She turned around, hurt. Knowing the answer to her question without him having to say another word. "Fine." She slammed the door behind him.

Too many impossible emotions gripped him when he picked up the phone a second time. He asked only one question.

"_What happened?" _

_Pont D'Arcole, Paris, France_

_-_

Sean Donely watched the scene on the bridge unfold in front of him.

More than two dozen members of a Parisian SWAT team surrounded the white van, like angry, black ants encroaching a giant sugar cube. They were heavily armed and pointed their sniper rifles at each and every opening of the vehicle.

Squad cars with flashing sirens diverted all traffic from the bridge, leaving behind empty stranded cars that had the misfortune of being trapped on it when everything went wrong. Vans with satellite receivers and television reporters with heavy make-up were parked behind the squad cars, eager for a glimpse of _something_.

They couldn't have known what they were reporting. Neither Sean nor O'Toole had given the police anything but the most essential information. Only that there was a hostage situation aboard the white van. A woman held inside against her will.

"He knows there's no way out," he heard a voice announce next to him. Dan O'Toole.

"That's what terrifies me," Sean replied, his mind drifting back almost a decade, when Robert Scorpio decided to follow Anna and Faison onto that tanker off the coast of Venezuela. Back then, did Faison blow it up because he didn't think there was any way out?

Knowing he had lost, would he try and take down whomever he could in the process? Even if that included Anna? Or worse, did he already know it wasn't Anna? What would it all mean for Leah?

"Oh God…" he whispered, feeling his legs go numb at the thought, forcing him to sit down on the rim of the sidewalk. How did he lose control of everything so quickly? It seemed like hours, or even days ago, when he saw Faison walk out onto that bridge to meet with Alex. When in reality it happened minutes ago.

Just before time stood still.

"They're going to storm the van any minute," O'Toole pointed out.

Storming the van was inevitable. It also meant almost certain injury to Alex.

If she got out alive.

"I know what you're thinking," O'Toole said aloud.

"She's in a death trap." Sean frowned, his eyelids closing under the weight of his guilt. He should never have attempted this. Should never have involved Alex.

Images flooded his mind. He wondered what Dimitri Marick looked like. Wondered if, on their first meeting, he'd have to tell him his wife had died. He wondered what Tiffany would say, when she found out that he lost his job with the WSB and faced charges of reckless endangerment. Would Anna hate him for what he did or would she understand? _Was her daughter going to_ _die_?

"Don't write her off yet," O'Toole said softly.

"Tonight should never have happened."

"It's not your fault."

"It _is_."

Sean caught a glimpse of Dan O'Toole's lips moving, about to say something else when he stopped in mid-sentence in response to the sound of gunfire.

The SWAT team was taking control of the van.

Sean leapt up and sprinted towards it. But O'Toole pushed him to the ground.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he yelled.

"I should be there!" Sean seethed, pushing the Irishman off him.

"So you can get yourself killed?"

Sean ignored him, his eyes trailing the raid on the van. There was more noise, a crashing sound as a window was shattered, followed by the shuffling noise of men shifting and moving in organized chaos. Rifles banged against the steel metal of the van.

More noise. Smoke filled the air and then another gunshot made Sean wince. And then... nothing.

Silence.

Sean raised his head to catch a glimpse of what was happening on the bridge but there were too many officers blocking his view.

Thankfully there was no sign of an explosion, reducing his fear that Faison might have rigged the van.

There was also no sign of Faison or Alex yet.

The SWAT team entered the van.

"What's happening?" Sean demanded.

O'Toole shook his head. "I don't know."

"Find out!"

Sean got up and ran to the nearest squad car, seeing an officer stationed outside it.

"What did they find inside the van?" he asked the officer as he turned his head back to the bridge.

_"Je n'sais pas encore."_

"Damn it!" Sean picked up his pace and ran towards the bridge, ignoring the officers that yelled at him to stay away, not stopping until was considerably closer to the scene and felt the restraining grip of a SWAT team officer around his neck.

"_Arretez! Vous ne pouvez pas y aller…" _

"I _need_ to know what happened," Sean hissed, chocking under the man's grip, oblivious to the rifle aimed at him in the darkness. "What did they find inside the van?"

The officer paused before answering his question, as if debating whether he should. He loosened his grip on Sean. "Nothing. They find nothing," he said slowly.

Sean didn't understand, freeing himself from the man's grasp. "What do you mean, _nothing_?"

"It is empty. The van is empty," the man repeated in a heavy French accent.

"That's not possible…"

Sean didn't notice that O'Toole had followed him onto the bridge and was now standing next to him. "Why the hell is he saying that?" he asked neither man in particular. "The van _can't_ be empty!" Sean turned to face O'Toole. "You said the tracking device put her inside that van."

Dan's expression was unreadable. "It did."

"She _has_ to be there!"

Sean caught the panic in O'Toole's eyes. "Unless Faison found the chip and removed it."

"You told me it was undetectable!"

"I said only select intelligence agencies are known to have the technology used to detect them…"

A sudden terrifying realization dawned on Sean. "That means she _could_ be in the first van."

Judging from O'Toole's expression, Sean saw that the same possibility suddenly occurred to him. "We had that van followed," Dan said touching his earpiece. "But we lost contact with him once he left our communication radius."

"I told him to call for police back up in following the van…has anyone heard from him?"

O'Toole shook his head. "No…not yet."

"How the hell can we reach him?"

"We can't. We wait until we hear from him."

"We can't just sit around here waiting for a damn progress report until…"

"Stop!" O'Toole raised his hand angrily, moving his other hand to his earpiece. "I'm getting a signal."

O'Toole walked away from the crowd of squad cars.

"Is it him?" Sean demanded, following O'Toole to the quietest spot they found, next to a cement post.

"It is."

Sean watched as O'Toole's expression changed, his heart sinking. "What is he telling you?"

"I can't hear him if you don't shut up," O'Toole mouthed, turning his back to Sean and suddenly switching to French.

Sean heard him say something he couldn't understand, heightening his frustration. He pulled at O'Toole's shoulders, forcing Dan to face him. "What the hell is he telling you? Where is he?"

O'Toole pulled off his earpiece, throwing it to the ground.

"_What_ did he say?" Sean demanded.

"He said…he said he followed the van through a tunnel and that inside it they switched vehicles."

"Switched vehicles?" Sean shook his head, uncomprehending. "What?"

"There was heavy traffic in the tunnel, due to construction…the back-up he called for didn't arrive on time…"

"What are you trying to say?"

"When they got out of the tunnel…he lost them."

"He _what_?" Sean's legs felt like rubber.

For the first time since he met him, Sean saw O'Toole lose his cool.

"What the hell don't you understand?" Dan yelled back at him. "I said he _lost them_!"

Sean shook his head in disbelief, hoping he'd wake up any moment now. That the flashing lights, the police cars, and the sirens that surrounded him were all a dream, nothing more.

"He went through the tunnel," he heard O'Toole's voice repeat, from far away. "When he got out they were gone. _He lost them_."


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

_Near the Pont D'Arcole, Paris, France_

_-_

Sean Donely couldn't pinpoint the precise moment when he lost control of everything.

He remembered the bridge; that horrible cement structure that swallowed them up whole only minutes ago. He remembered the police cars, the sirens, the reporters, and the swarms of people that gathered to watch the SWAT team storm the white van.

When everything was over, Sean remembered a police officer approach him. He started to talk to him but then Dan O'Toole entered the conversation, stopping Sean from saying another word. Pushing him away from the scene, down a street, into a taxi…

Now he wasn't sure where he was anymore.

It was nighttime now, and, as the streets of foreign cities often do; in the darkness they all looked the same. The one they were on was poorly lit and the storefronts that lined it were gated shut. Sean spotted two women, in high heels and tight short skirts, strolling down the sidewalk, smoking and talking in a language that he was certain wasn't French.

A neon sign for a video store that should have read _CinemaSex_, was missing its first and last letter. It flashed the word _inemaSe _in bright pink in front of his face, illuminating it in the darkness.

Sean knew Paris well but not nearly as well as Dan O'Toole and now he was lost. Out of his element. He leaned against a lamppost, squinting his eyes in the glaring, pink neon lights.

"Where the hell are we?" he demanded, forcing his senses to snap back into focus, even though he still couldn't stop Alex's voice from ringing in his mind.

_"I trust you."_

"I asked you a question," Sean repeated, noticing now that one of his sleeves was torn. "What's gotten into you? Why did you drag us away from that bridge?"

"Because you were in a daze. You weren't thinking straight and about to do something really stupid."

"What the…" Sean cocked his head in disbelief, relieved to find his anger restore his alertness.

O'Toole didn't hide his irritation. "You were about to tell that officer everything."

"If we're going to find Alex we need every, single resource we can get our hands on! That means coming clean about what happened on that bridge tonight," Sean shot back. He started walking, wanting to get away from this seedy neighbourhood, away from Dan O'Toole.

O'Toole grabbed him by the arm. "Don't walk away from me!"

Sean glared at him. Dan O'Toole looked like he too was nearing the end of his rope. The normally quiet, and borderline shy, Irishman was as tense as Sean had yet seen him.

Dan O'Toole usually looked inconspicuous. Or perhaps _harmless_ was a more apt description. With his lanky physique, thin red hair and wire-rimmed glasses he looked more like a teacher or an accountant than an agent working for Scotland Yard.

Looking at him, no one would have guessed that his background included a ten-year stint with the British SIS, where he spent most of his time working undercover in the former Soviet Union. Nor would anyone have guessed that his background was military intelligence and that, unlike his physique suggested, he had enough hand-to-hand combat experience that he could kill most men twice his size without so much as breaking a sweat.

Dan O'Toole looked boring and he liked it that way. Sean guessed that being underestimated had served him well and had probably saved his life on more than one occasion.

"I said, 'Don't walk away from me'" he repeated.

"You want me to keep quiet because you want to keep your job," Donely quipped, easily wriggling himself out of his grasp. "I understand…and I hate that I put you in the position I did tonight. You were against it from the get go. I didn't listen and you have no idea how sorry I am about that. But there's nothing I can do about any of it…Alex needs all the help she can get now."

"I don't give a damn about the job," Dan shot back. "You saw those reporters on the bridge, didn't you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"If the police realize what exactly happened tonight, losing our jobs will be the least of our worries."

O'Toole observed him. "I know this isn't just any operation. I know it's personal and you blame yourself. But you've got to forget all that and start thinking clearly. If the police find out exactly what happened tonight, then the media finds out…and they'll have a riveting story on their hands. 'World renowned medical researcher fills in for twin sister in a botched attempt to nab one of Europe's most elusive criminals'…throw in the fact that Faison supposedly caused Leah' illness and you've got a story that might even hit the front pages!"

Sean said nothing, his thoughts reeling in the darkness.

"Faison _cannot_ find out that he's got the wrong person, _do you understand that_?" Dan O'Toole said softly. "Alex's best chance for making it out of this mess alive is to keep Faison believing that he's got Anna. I have a feeling he wouldn't hurt Anna."

"How long exactly do you think she'll pull off this charade? Alex is a doctor…not a spy. She's not used to playing games like this."

"From what I've heard and seen, she's a smart lady. I think she'll hold on until we find her," Dan told him.

Sean flung his arms into the air. "This is crazy…all of it."

"But you understand what I'm trying to tell you, don't you?"

"Of course, I understand," Sean shook his head in frustration. "Once Faison finds out he doesn't have Anna, there's no telling how he will react. But I don't see how you're going to keep this under wraps. We alerted the police, our men were standing by that van with sniper rifles…how in the world are we going to explain this?"

"Leave that to me," O'Toole reassured him. "All we told the police was that we came across a hostage situation. That a woman was held inside a van against her will. The van turned out to be empty."

"The Chief of Police has a dozen questions for us!" Sean reminded him. "Not the least of which is why we abandoned the scene like we did."

"Let me worry about explanations…my men won't say a word without my instructions." O'Toole took a deep breath. "You've got your plate full breaking this to Anna…and Alex's husband. That's all I want you to worry about…get them under control so we can start looking for Alex."

"_We_?" Sean looked at him incredulously. "You think the two of us are single-handedly going to find Faison?"

A prostitute eyed them as she strode by in impossibly high heels, staring at them with flirty curiosity.

O'Toole lowered his voice. "The less people involved the greater our chances of Faison not finding out about the switch. Besides, Anna knows more about him than she's been letting on. She's going to help us."

"Great," Sean sighed, leaning against a lamppost. "It's not as though she doesn't have enough on her plate. I'm worried about her, Dan…if this doesn't send her over the edge, I don't know what will."

"Anna's tough. She'll deal with this better than you think."

"She won't forgive me for this," Sean whispered.

"Oh, she'll be angry… at both of us. But we don't have time for anger and pointing fingers right now. Anna will realize that. For her sister's sake."

Sean blinked in the light of the flashing, pink _inemaSe_ sign. He didn't want to think about Anna's reaction. Or Robin's. Or Dimitri Marick's.

"Are we together on this?" O'Toole asked him.

Sean nodded. He had to do the impossible and pull himself together. "Yes...yes, of course."

"Good…I'll worry about the police. You go and find Anna. We need her."

_Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of the Congo, Africa_

_-_

Robert Scorpio slammed the door shut behind him.

"I don't appreciate being summoned like this," the well-dressed man in the cool, ventilated office told him.

"I said it was an emergency," Robert reiterated.

"I'm your supervising officer, not the other way around."

Robert ignored the reprimand. "The WSB was supposed to protect Anna. They failed. Now I need your help."

The man in front of him barely reacted. His name was Clive Sampson and his eyes were as blue as Robert's. When he spoke it was with a heavy, South African accent. Sampson was the WSB's Director of Operations in Central Africa and he was the man who dispatched Robert and Sandrine on their field assignments.

Robert didn't like him and avoided him whenever possible. Yet, at the same time, Sampson the only one who knew about the deal Robert struck with the WSB almost ten years ago. Aside from Sandrine, Sampson was also the only person who knew his real name. Knew his history.

Clive Sampson also knew that Robert had once been slated to head the WSB. Because of it, Sampson sensed that his authority over Scorpio was limited. _That_ fact was probably the root of their mutual animosity. Clive Sampson hated that he couldn't treat Robert the same miserable way he treated most of his agents.

"The WSB did everything it could to keep an eye on your ex-wife…short of putting a permanent guard on her, which you yourself didn't want."

"I wanted to protect her from Cesar Faison, not exchange one stalker for another. Besides, Anna would have found out if we had put a guard on her for years. She's not an amateur."

"Our agents have kept track of her whereabouts at regular intervals and sent you the photographic evidence to prove to you she was well," Sampson pointed out. "It's been almost ten years, Scorpio…we all thought this was over."

Robert seethed. "It's never over for Faison. _Your_ agents let their guard down and because of it he got her!"

"First off, they're not _my_ agents," Sampson corrected him. "Aside from being aware of it, I don't have anything to do with this deal you made. From what you said it happened this evening…he kidnapped her on a bridge in Paris."

"That's not how Faison works," Robert told him. "He doesn't come out of the blue and kidnap her. He had to have followed her for weeks; months even, before doing this. Faison is meticulous to a fault...and your agents missed it all."

Sampson tightened his tie, obviously bored with the conversation. "What do you want me to do?"

"I know where he took her," Robert's mind drifted back to the conversation with the man he knew only as 'Hans'.

"_We're leaving Paris tonight on his jet and we're flying to Russia." _

"_Is she alright? Tell me…"_

"_I'm not with them right now. I can't tell you. But he wouldn't hurt her. You know that." _

"_When you know more I need you to call me again…please."_

"_That's too risky for me. You know that too. He's taking her to an estate north of Moscow, an old summer residence that used to belong to Tsar Nicholas…I will give you the exact co-ordinates. The rest is up to you. You won't hear from me again." _

The man's voice had a Nordic accent, Swedish or perhaps Danish. Robert didn't know what precisely Hans' relationship with Faison was but only that he was close enough to know his every move.

"So you know where she is," Sampson echoed.

Robert noticed that the director's attention had drifted. His eyes were focusing on the computer screen in front of him. "You haven't answered my question. You're obviously here because you want something from me. What is it?"

"I need men to help me get her out," Robert demanded. It was hard to keep his anger in check. "I can't go up against Faison alone."

"I see."

Sampson licked his lips, no longer looking at Robert.

The gesture infuriated him and Robert pushed a heap of file folders from Sampson's desk to the floor with a thud.

"What are you doing?" the director asked, barely perturbed.

"If you don't look at me at right now, you bastard, the next thing I throw on the floor won't be an inanimate object!"

Sampson pulled his gaze from the computer screen, yawning. "You have a partner, don't you? Take Mutanga with you."

Robert shook his head. "I'm not involving Sandrine in this. I need someone else. Cesar Faison is a professional. I need at least four men."

Sampson chuckled. "You really do live in the past don't you, Scorpio? Where in the world do you think I'll get the expenditure to spare you four agents, in Africa of all places, for a mission that's based on a personal vendetta?"

"Am I not making myself clear to you? This isn't a request! I struck a deal with the WSB to keep my wife safe. It's why I stayed on with them…in this godforsaken part of the world. They failed and now the WSB _owes_ me the resources I need to bring her back!" Robert took a deep breath. "If you don't get me those men, I'll go above you. I don't care what it takes."

"You'll do no such thing," Sampson shot back, mildly annoyed now. "You're in no place to make demands right now."

Robert's anger mixed with confusion. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"The only way you found out about Anna's kidnapping was through your own personal informant. An informant you've paid for illegally…something the WSB has always turned a blind eye to."

"Blind eye?" Robert was furious. "You tried to get my partner to spy on me!"

"You've paid for your informant with conflict diamonds!" Sampson shot back, pounding his fist on his desk.

"Because I _knew_ the WSB wasn't capable of protecting my wife from Faison! Obviously I was right!"

Sampson was furious too now. "You committed unlawful, criminal acts. All these years, I've never done anything to about them because, no matter how much I loathe you, you were and _are_ one of my most resourceful and productive field agents. You're an asset to our next generation of agents. But don't you _dare_ think that means you can waltz in here and make demands. The WSB doesn't owe you any more than you owe _them_. Or more specifically…owe _me_."

It took all of Robert's willpower to stop from saying what he wanted to. "Look...I can't do this alone. If I fail…Anna's life is at stake."

"You might not know this, but Anna Devane works for Interpol now. They have enough resources to help find her."

"_They_ don't know where he took her," Robert gritted his teeth. "_I_ do."

"Then tell Interpol." Sampson shrugged his shoulders. "Sounds simple enough to me."

"You don't get it, do you?" Robert took another long, deep breath. "If Interpol finds Faison, he'll end up in prison. He'll get another slap on the wrist and be out in a couple of years. It has to end now. This isn't just about Anna. It's about ending it…by killing Faison."

Sampson stood up and smoothed out his Ferragamo jacket in the process. "You go ahead and do that…I have no problems with that."

"But Interpol would."

Sampson frowned. "This is true. Europeans are so needlessly politically correct these days. It will bite them in rear soon, you'll see."

"I need four men," Robert repeated.

"You can have one."

Robert balled his fingers into a fist, pacing the room now. "It's _not enough_…I can't bring Faison down with one man! I have no idea what to expect once I find him."

Robert thought he caught Sampson rolling his eyes.

"Two men. That's all I'm giving you. Take it or leave it."

"You're jeopardizing Anna's life…"

Sampson smirked. "I couldn't care less about your ex-wife and her problems. And, to add a correction…_you're_ the one jeopardizing her life by not telling Interpol what you know. Don't ever forget that, _Robert_."

"I need the men now," was all he muttered.

"They'll be in your office within the hour." Sampson threw him a credit card. "Here…that should cover your expenses and when this is all over and you come back to Kinshasa, I want you to remember who owes whom."

Robert said nothing as he grabbed the card and left the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

_St. Michel Hospital, Paris, France_

_- _

Anna spotted David as soon as the elevator doors opened.

"How's Leah?" she asked when he was within earshot.

Once she was close enough, David rested a tentative arm on her back. "Leah…she's...I promised you she's going to be fine. How are _you_?"

"Better. Much better." Her eyes met his. "Thank you," she added softly.

He managed a smile. "You look better and you don't have to… thank me, that is."

Anna caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window of the intensive care unit. There was some truth to his words. After eating and taking a shower she felt like a new person.

"How's the headache?" he prodded her, taking hold of her arm when he saw she was about to head for Leah's room.

"It's gone."

"Don't be stoic..."

Anna sighed. "Really...I feel fine." She took a long look at David realizing the same couldn't be said for him. "You, on the other hand, look exhausted."

David cocked his head, shrugging it off. "I'm fine."

She couldn't help a smirk. "Right."

Anna's smile faded when she turned her gaze towards Leah's room. "Tell me the truth about Leah…has there been any change?"

David didn't have a chance to answer. Doctor Kazemi emerged from her daughter's room. "I'm so glad you're here, Anna," he said as soon as he saw her.

"What's going on with Leah?" she asked. "Have there been any improvements?"

The downturn in his gaze was all she needed to know what the answer was.

Anna felt the tears well up beneath her eyes and she fought them back. "Why is she not responding to any of the drug treatments?"

"This is why I wanted to talk to you….I'd like to try something else on your daughter, but I need your consent."

David elbowed his way between them, into the middle of the conversation. "No way. No more experimenting with my daughter."

Anna looked at him aghast. "David, you haven't even listened to what he has to say!"

"Please Doctor Hayward…give me a chance to explain what I have in mind."

David shook his head. "No. I said '_no'_. Not only do I not want you to start another drug treatment, I want you to take her off what she's currently on. The anti-virals have proven useless."

Anna looked at him in disbelief. "Excuse us, Doctor Kazemi…" She pushed David away from the Persian doctor, into the waiting room.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she accused him angrily.

"Please Anna, trust me on this…Leah can't go on any other drugs right now."

"This isn't _your_ decision! Doctor Kazemi has been looking after Leah since we brought her in. I want to at least hear what he has to say…"

"Anna, this is a waste of time…"

This felt so familiar. This need of his to bulldoze over all other physicians when it came to the treatment of any patient that mattered. It reminded her all too much of how he had brought back Maria Santos from the brink of death and lied continuously to cover up his methods, tearing up her young family in the process. For David Hayward, the end _always_ justified the means.

"You're a cardiologist for God's sake! You don't know the first thing about my daughter's condition!"

"_Our_ daughter," he corrected her. "Please, Anna, I need you to trust me on this."

Anna chuckled cynically. "That's ironic, isn't it? You asking me to do the one thing I never could." She wiped away a wayward tear with her right hand. "I didn't ask you to come here so you could play God with my little girl…and if you try, I'll _fight_ _you, _David." She stared into his black eyes. "And if I do, you won't win."

She turned away from him, ready to go back to where Dr. Kazemi was standing, when she felt David's hand pull at her arm.

"_Anna!" _

She yanked herself free from his grasp with ease. "Don't even try…"

"Mom, what's going on?"

Anna saw Robin entering the waiting room, a puzzled expression on her face.

"David has decided he knows better than anyone else how to care for your sister…and he's trying to convince me to not consider any options Dr. Kazemi has to offer in her treatment."

Anna caught Robin looking at David, as if for some sort of clue. "What did you tell Mom?" she asked him.

"I told her she needs to trust me."

"Unfortunately, that's not an option," Anna shot back.

"Mom," Robin looked up at her. "David's right. You _have_ to trust him on this."

Anna raised her brow. "Robin…what are you talking about?"

"David's right. If Doctor Kazemi wants to try another drug treatment he should hold off for now."

"Why are you saying that? Is there something you two know that I don't?" Anna looked around the room in frustration. "Is Alex here? I want to know what she has to say."

She felt David's arm around her waist.

"Baby, will you have a seat for a minute, so I can tell you what we know?" His touch was gentle and there was a patience about him that seemed unfamiliar. It was a newfound patience borne out of circumstance. There were so many things about David Hayward, both good and bad, that seemed so familiar and yet there were also traces of him she no longer recognized.

Robin kneeled down in front of her. "Mom…I think we can help Leah."

"_We?" _

"David and I, we think we have…" Robin paused, choosing her words with deliberation and looking to David for guidance. It was an unnatural hesitancy that Anna picked up on immediately.

"Robin, what are you not telling me?"

"We believe we can help Leah…but in order to do it, I want her to go off the antibiotics,'" David finished for Robin.

"You can _'help Leah'_? How?" Anna demanded.

"Mom, please…" Robin's face pleaded with her. She caught a glimpse of Doctor Kazemi observing them. "There's no way I would ask you to do something I think could hurt my sister. You have to trust me...and David."

Anna looked at both of them, skeptically. She might not have allowed her instincts to trust David, but Robin was a different matter. "I don't know what you're hiding from me…but you're going to tell me now," she said angrily.

"What are you doing?" David asked her when she turned away from them.

"I'm going to ask Doctor Kazemi to take her off the antibiotics."

David sighed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. I promise you…it's the right decision."

Anna's eyes darkened with mistrust when she met his. "It better be. For Leah's sake…and yours."

Robin watched him sink into one of the chairs in the waiting room as Anna left to speak to the Persian doctor. "You're really tired, David…you haven't had a break since you got here, have you?"

"We should tell her the truth," he said, rubbing his eyelids.

Robin nodded, sitting down next to him. "We will…but before we tell her everything, I want to make sure Alex is okay." She pulled a cell phone from her purse, getting back up. "If you'll excuse me…I'm going to try calling Sean again."

Robin saw him close his eyes. "You okay?" she asked. "I mean, with the serum. Are there any side effects?"

David opened his eyes with a grin. "Believe it or not, this isn't the craziest thing I've done."

Robin returned his grin. She liked his smile, in spite of her misgivings about him. "Why am I not entirely surprised to hear you say that?"

David laughed. "It's okay…you're your mother's daughter. I wouldn't expect anything but." His expression turned serious again when he fingered the band-aid on his arm. "I'm going to run two more blood tests in the next twelve hours, but so far, so good. I haven't had any physical symptoms."

"That's good news," Robin saw her mother return and she clutched her cell phone. "I should really call Sean…" she added softly.

"Robin, where are you going?" Anna asked her. "There's some things I want to ask you."

"Back in a sec, Mom," she mumbled before heading down the stairwell to make the call outside.

"Did you talk to Kazemi?" David asked her, as Anna took a seat next to him.

"I did," she told him coolly. "He didn't agree with my decision."

"I'm not surprised. I didn't think he would."

"You want to tell me what the hell's going on?" she demanded.

David pushed himself onto the edge of the seat. "I will…when Robin gets back."

"You're stalling."

David smirked, taking her hand in his. "Please, would you stop thinking the worst of me for five minutes? I would never hurt my daughter. Never… please tell me you know that?"

Her gaze softened. "Yes, I do...know that." She wanted to say something else, but the words escaped her when Anna spotted Sean Donely from the corner of her eye.

"Sean…"

Sean bent down to kiss her cheek. "Hey sweetheart. You look much better. How's Leah?"

"No changes." Anna turned to David. "Unless there's something you want to add?"

David shook his head. "When Robin gets back, she's going to tell you everything." He glanced up at Sean Donely, not hiding his dislike of him after their initial, turbulent encounter at Anna's apartment. "Robin just went out to give call you. You must have missed each other."

Anna straightened her skirt as she stood up. "While you two debate how you're going to break this big secret to me…I want to go see my baby."

She felt Sean's hand on her shoulder.

"Anna, can I talk to you first?" he asked her.

"Can it wait for a few minutes? I haven't seen my daughter since I got here."

"No, it can't wait, Anna." His voice was low and when she looked at him, Anna saw just how pale he was. He looked drained. Shell-shocked.

"Sean, are you okay?"

Sean nodded. "I'm fine…but there's something I need to tell you."

"What is it?" she asked, worried now. She'd never seen him quite like this. He looked like someone who just lost his best friend.

"I need to tell you this alone."

"Fine." Anna took one of his cold, clammy hands and clasped it into hers as she made him walk away from the waiting room into the hospital corridor.

"Sean, you're scaring me. Tell me…what's wrong?"


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

_Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of the Congo, Africa_

_-_

Rather than the two men Clive Sampson had promised him, Robert found a woman in his office instead.

Sandrine.

"Were you going to leave without saying good-bye?"

Robert averted her eyes and sat down at his desk. The ceiling fan was still broken and the air in his office was thick enough to drink.

"I asked you a question," she pressed.

Robert frowned. Her presence threw him further off balance than he already was. Sandrine always said what she felt. It was one of the many things he loved about her. But right now, he wasn't ready for her frankness.

He still remembered the first day Sandrine had told him she loved him. He'd chided her then, saying it wasn't possible, that she couldn't love him after only one night together.

"Of course it is possible," she had corrected him. "I know what my heart feels. I loved you long before tonight. Tonight I only love you more. Tonight I want you _to know_."

Her unflinching honesty often caught him off guard. Like now.

"I'm sorry, but I can't discuss this with you right now," was all he said.

"Is your daughter alright?" Sandrine asked, her concern genuine.

Robert nodded, saying nothing.

"It's Anna, isn't it?"

He answered her with silence.

"Let me go with you…" she pleaded. "I can help you."

This time he did raise his head to meet her gaze, noticing her eyes were moist and hurt. He also saw something else in them. Something he rarely saw: uncertainty.

"This is something I have to do myself. I don't want you involved in this." He took off his jacket, feeling his shirt cling to his skin in the heat. Sandrine wouldn't understand that she was the future, that she had no place in his past. They were two mutually exclusive worlds now.

"You're going to kill him. You're going to kill Cesar Faison and give Anna her freedom, " she said. It wasn't a question.

Robert nodded. "Yes. That's all I'm going to do."

"No," she said softly, her thick lips beginning to quiver. "That's not all. If you kill him then you have everything back again. Anna and your daughter. You will have your old life back."

Robert said nothing, hating that he could feel what she felt. That god-awful sense of loss.

"What happens then, Robert?" She was crying now, not bothering to wipe away the generous drops that ran down her cheeks.

"I don't know," he whispered. He felt his own eyes moisten. "I'm sorry, Sandi. I wish I could tell you…but I don't know."

"Do you love me?" she asked.

Robert took her in his arms, burying his face in hers. "You know I do."

"Then you will come back."

Robert's mind drifted to the ring in his desk drawer, just as the jasmine scent of her perfume made its way into his nostrils, teasing his senses.

"I want to, Sandi…but I can't promise you."

She moved her lips onto his. Wet, moist, salty.

"You _will_ come back," she whispered, wrapping her long arms around him. "I know you will."

_Alexei Estate, 100 miles north of Moscow, Russia _

_-_

"That's right. You can come back to us now. I know you want to."

The voice was deep and hypnotic. As though it could will her eyes to open, even if they weren't ready yet to leave the darkness where everything fused together.

The bridge, the white vans, the needle that shot up into her arm.

"_Sasha, you have someone else's memories. You're not well. You're so confused, darling." _

"_Mum, please don't let him near me." _

The man approached her. First he was in the room with the whitewashed walls. Then he approached her inside the white van. Everything merged into one. Wales. Paris. Faison. Charlotte.

"_Anna, please don't make us hurt you."_

Nothing made sense. She was so confused. Afraid.

"_The drugs take everything away from me…I don't know who I am anymore." _

"_You never gave me many options, Anna." _

"_Mum, please…"_

"No…no. Please…don't."

"I won't hurt you, Anna. You're safe."

She heard it again, the gentle, low voice, and then, finally, she heard her own voice in the mix.

"_Don't..." _

"It's alright. You're fine. Waking up is always the most confusing part."

Alex slowly raised her eyelids to see a face attached to the voice. A man with a thick, white beard and blue-green eyes hiding behind a pair of old-fashioned glasses.

'Santa Claus', she thought in dazed disbelief. He reminded her of Santa Claus.

"That's it. Good girl."

She saw that he was about to examine her pupils, but she reached out to push his hand away.

"Who are you?" she demanded. It was meant to sound threatening but in reality Alex doubted her words were even coherent.

Her eyelids were heavy and Alex let them close, vaguely remembering the needle, while the physician in her wondered what drug she could have been injected with.

"My name is Doctor Thorpe. But you may call me Henry," she heard him say.

He had an English accent when he spoke. Oxford English. The man spoke the same way a university professor might lecture. Clipped, proper and erudite.

It was an accent that brought back a memory of Brynn Wydd and Alex shivered underneath the wool blanket that covered her.

"Where am I?"

"You're in Russia," he informed her. "I'm afraid that's all I've been instructed to tell you."

_Russia._

Alex tossed off the blanket, trying to sit up, even as the room started to spin around her.

"No…that's not possible." Her voice couldn't have been very loud. She could barely hear the words she spoke. Panic gripped her. Russia wasn't possible. The man had to be lying.

"It's true. You were unconscious for approximately twelve hours. You've been here for less than an hour."

Sean Donely. The tracking device. _They couldn't have taken her to Russia. It was too far away. _

"Do you remember what happened? How you came here?" he asked her.

Alex remembered the bridge, the vans and the needle. Images of Cesar Faison. They all came back to her with frightening clarity, making her shudder.

"I know you've had retrograde amnesia for a long time. Because of that Mr. Faison wanted me to examine you and make sure you suffered no ill effects from the sedative. He was quite concerned."

Retrograde amnesia?

Alex gave him a puzzled look, when suddenly, she remembered something else.

_She was Anna_.

She looked at her clothes and saw Anna's clothes. The dark blouse and stylish denim jeans. Alex moved a shaky hand to her hair, feeling its unfamiliar, layered cut when she touched it.

She wasn't Anna. But that didn't matter. What mattered was that this man believed she was.

What if she told them she wasn't? Would Faison let her go?

Or would he use her as a bargaining chip to get to Anna? Or worse...would he decide he had no use for her and kill her?

What about his promise to help Leah?

Alex had a hard time getting air into her lungs. In her panic, she was starting to hyperventilate.

"So, if you don't mind…I'd like to have a look at you, as well as take a blood sample."

The man was friendly and patient and he seemed to genuinely care for her well-being. Maybe he could be an ally. A friend.

Alex reached out to grasp the fabric of his chequered shirt. "Please…will you help me?" she whispered. "I'm not here of my own free will…I was kidnapped."

The old man who looked like Santa Claus and spoke like an Oxford professor gave her a kindly smile, not unlike that of a parent acknowledging a child's discovery. Humouring it. "I know you were kidnapped, Anna."

"Then you'll help me get away from here…" She felt a sliver of relief. This man was a doctor. An English doctor. Of course this man wasn't going to sit by and watch while Cesar Faison kept her prisoner.

"I'm sorry, but I can't help you, Anna."

"Please, Henry…" she pleaded, disturbed at the nonchalance of his refusal. "If it's money you want, I can make sure you get it. I swear to you…"

The man's green-blue eyes lit up in amusement. "Unfortunately for you, my services are already employed by various organizations in Moscow. They pay me rather well. Believe me when I say they wouldn't appreciate me helping you out."

"If you need protection, I can make sure you get it. Whatever you want…I'll arrange it for you."

Dr. Thorpe gave her a gentle push back onto the pillow, gesturing that the time for games was over. "If you don't mind. I'd like to examine you now."

"Please." She was begging now. "You're a doctor…_help me get away from here!_"

"Anna," he chided her gently. "Stop wasting your breath and my time with silly requests." He sighed. "I'm not going to help you, my dear. Not now, not ever." He didn't sound unkind. He still sounded like a parent, admonishing his child for wanting another candy, when in fact, all that sugar wasn't good for her.

Alex pushed herself off the bed. "Who are you?"

The man pulled a syringe out of his black, medical bag. "I told you. My name is Henry. That's all you need to know. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to take a blood sample for Mr. Faison."

Sitting made her feel light-headed. "I do mind."

The old man smiled. "I thought you might say that."

"You're English."

"I am, yes. Abingdon. A little town in…"

"Oxfordshire," Alex finished for him, grateful that at least her mind was starting to clear, the haze lifting. Then she bit her tongue. Would Anna have known that?

"That's right. Oxfordshire. Not a terribly interesting town, I might add." Henry Thorpe smiled. "Mr. Faison mentioned that you would try and interrogate me."

"I'm trying to understand why you won't help me."

"You think I owe you something because we were born in the same country?"

"Please…I'm begging you."

"Don't ask me again, Anna."

Alex stood up next to him, fighting the light-headedness that made the room spin again. She stood face to face with him, surprised to find he wasn't particularly tall. "Everyone has a price. What's yours?"

The old man shook his head with a touch of disdain. "Even if I wanted to, and I most certainly don't, what makes you think I _can_ help you?"

"There has to be _something_ you can do!"

He put both hands on her shoulders, trying unsuccessfully to get her to sit back down. "The drug hasn't completely worn off yet. Lie down and give it a few more minutes."

"So you can inject me with something else? I don't think so." Like she did on the bridge, Alex spoke the words with a bravado she didn't feel.

"Listen," Henry Thorpe sighed with growing impatience. "We can make this easy or we can make it difficult."

"Difficult works for me."

He shook his head, disappointed. "All I want, Anna, is a blood sample to make Mr. Faison happy. It takes two seconds of your compliance. If you don't I have to call in a guard, to help me subdue you and possibly sedate you again. Is that really what you want?"

Alex considered what he was saying.

"It would be in your best interest to save the little energy you have fighting _him_," he said softly, eyeing the bedroom's closed door. "Instead of wasting it on me."

Sinking back into the bed, Alex held out her arm. "Fine…do what you have to do."

Her fatigue made her want to close her eyes again, in spite of the needle's sting in her arm. Alex fought the urge and made herself examine her surroundings.

The room she was in was large and dark. It had a rustic smell that betrayed its obvious age, much like the rooms at Vadsel did. It was old, centuries old perhaps. The walls were lined with dark wood panels and Alex had an urge to turn on the night-table lamp to see better. She did notice two large, elaborate oil paintings hanging on the walls.

Judging from the thick curtains in front of her, there had to be at least one window in the room. Alex wished the curtains weren't drawn shut so she could catch a glimpse of the landscape outside.

The bed she was lying in was as elaborate as the paintings and the curtains. It was an enormous, four-poster bed with intricate, religious carvings etched into its oak frame. Alex didn't know much about antiques, in spite of the fact that Vadsel was full of them. Yet even she could discern that both the bed and the paintings in this room would likely fetch a small fortune at any European auction house.

The only other furniture in the room was a dark, antique dresser and mirror, both of which were framed by two exquisite, hand-carved chairs.

Everything about the room was old and regal. It reminded Alex of rooms she had seen on school trips to castles belonging to British royalty. It was a strange opulence she didn't particularly care for. A needless grandeur that could suffocate its occupant.

"There. That wasn't so difficult, was it?"

Alex felt the old man pull the needle out of her arm. "As long as you'll leave me alone now." Soliciting for his help was obviously pointless. Now she just wanted him gone.

"It's a deal. I don't think you've suffered lingering effects from the sedative. Just open your eyes for me."

Alex did as he asked, knowing he was checking whether her pupils were dilated.

"Do you feel sick?" he asked her casually.

"No."

He smiled. "If you did, you wouldn't tell me anyway. Not that I really care, but if you get sick on me in a few days, Mr. Faison won't be pleased with me."

"And I really care about that." The only place she felt sore was on her hip. Alex moved a hand to the spot where Sean had inserted the tracking device. Her pants clung to the spot, stained with the dried blood.

Faison had to have discovered the chip and removed it.

A fresh surge of panic ran up her spine. 'Oh God…they have no idea where he took me.'

"Good-bye, Anna," she heard the old man say, before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

Alex jumped up after him, trying to catch door before it slammed shut, only to find it was looked from outside. "Bastard," she cursed, pounding against it.

The effort dizzied her and Alex sank down to the ground, feeling the tears well up in her eyes.

'Anna wouldn't sit here and cry,' she thought, unable to bring her panic under control. Her breathing was erratic again.

She was alone. In Russia. With the man who had tried to kill her sister.

Alex couldn't stop the tears. The only time she'd ever felt this helpless was when she was at Brynn Wydd with her mother.

'Anna wouldn't panic…' a voice reminded her. Except her terror was louder than the voice.

And she wasn't Anna.

On the cold, wooden floor, Alex buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

_Sitting Room, Alexei Estate_

_-_

Faison paced the old oak room, taking a drag on his cigar.

"What's taking him so long?" he asked Jan for the second time in the last fifteen minutes.

Jan couldn't be bothered to repeat his earlier response. "Why don't you go inside and ask him?" he said instead.

"Seeing me might frighten her when she comes to," he replied, still pacing.

Jan yawned, focusing his gaze on the painting that hung on the wall.

The painting was beautiful. It made Jan smile.

Tsar Nicholas to whom to estate once belonged, was known in the art world for his inferior taste. Jan had low expectations for the artwork here. But this painting was a sudden revelation that maybe he'd been wrong. It was a simple portrait of a Russian princess, but its lines and colours were far too intricate and vibrant for the average portrait painter, even one commissioned to the Tsar's family.

'Could it be?' Jan thought excitedly, searching for the signature. 'A genuine Kiprensky?'

"It _is_ a Kiprensky," Faison mumbled aloud, without looking at Jan or the painting. "If that's what you're wondering."

Jan's smile deepened. Orest Kiprensky was one of the greatest painters of Imperial Russia. The last time Jan had the privilege of gazing at one his works was at the Tretyakov Gallery in Moscow, a few months ago.

"I acquired it last month," Faison continued. "It was one of several paintings I bought to replace some of the eyesores that were hanging on the walls. Anna has a keen eye for art. I didn't want to disappoint her when she came here."

Jan looked at it in awe, his fingers itching to touch the canvas, while his eyes hungrily stared at every tiny, perfect detail. Jan never missed a single detail in a great work of art. He could stare at a painting for hours at a time, soaking in its every intricacy. And each time he did, he wished that he too could have been blessed with the gift of creation rather than that of calculation.

The English doctor interrupted Jan's wishful thinking when he entered the room.

"Well?" Faison asked him. "How is she?"

"She's fine. Absolutely fine. There appear to be no ill effects from the sedative whatsoever."

Jan saw the relief on Faison's face.

"Good. I'm glad," he told the doctor. "You can let Yuri know to bill me for your services and I will call you tomorrow to see the results of the blood test."

The old doctor put on a tweed hat. "I'll be awaiting your call, Mr. Faison."

"It's alright to see her then?" Faison asked Thorpe as he was about to make his way out.

"Yes. Most definitely."

Faison turned to Jan. "Would you please walk Dr. Thorpe out to the gates, past security."

"Of course, sir." Jan feigned a smile for the old man. "Please, follow me."

Cesar Faison followed them into the hallway, waiting until they were out of sight, before taking the elaborate, spiral staircase that led to the bedroom where she was.

He paused and caught his breath before entering the numerical code needed to open the door.

He was unarmed. Alone.

If she wanted to, Anna could easily try to fight him. Although she was physically no match for his size and strength, he didn't doubt that she would offer him a challenge.

Yet when he entered the room she wasn't ready to pounce on him. Instead she was kneeling on the floor, next to the door, her eyes red and rimmed with tears.

Silently, he knelt down next to her, using his free hand to brush a strand of hair away from her face.

"It's alright, my love…I won't hurt you."

_St. Michel Hospital, Paris, France_

_- _

Stretchers lined the busy hospital corridor. An old man coughed as if he were about to expel his lungs and a young woman moaned, clutching her stomach.

"Sean, what is it that you have to tell me?" Anna asked him for the second time, oblivious to the sick people around her.

"Can we go somewhere more quiet?" Sean asked her. Were it anyone but him, Anna would have thought he was stalling. She noticed his suit was wrinkled and dirty and that one of its sleeves was torn near the edge.

"There's a cafeteria downstairs," she offered.

"Alright."

Once there, Anna walked to a quiet table next to the wall, as isolated as possible in the cavernous room. "Will you finally tell me what's going on?"

"Will you have a seat?"

Anna sat down. The fact that he wouldn't meet her eyes troubled her. "Sean…is everything okay with Tiffany?"

Sean took a seat across from her, forcing himself to look at her. Forcing himself to form the words he didn't seem to want to say. "Yesterday, when I went to your apartment, I found a letter there. From Faison."

Now it was Anna who wouldn't meet his gaze. "I see."

"You've been in contact with him, haven't you?"

Anna tightened her lips. "Since when do you open my mail?"

"Answer me, please."

"_He's_ been contacting _me_. Not the other way around. I have no idea where Faison is."

"In the letter he said he wanted to meet with you. In exchange for 'helping Leah.'"

"_What?"_ Anna's anger was replaced with shock.

"I wanted to show you the letter when you got back from the hospital, but you were out cold."

"When does he want to meet with me?" Anna demanded.

"He _did_. Last night, at nine o'clock."

"When I was fast asleep…" Anna let the words sink in. Faison was within her grasp. He _did_ have something to do with Leah's illness, just as she had suspected. He _did _have a possible cure. Everything had slipped through her fingers again. She wanted to kick herself as her mind raced, making it nearly impossible to hear what Sean said next.

"Alex was there when I opened the letter," he told her.

Anna forced her thoughts back to the present. "So Alex...knows…about Faison."

Sean nodded. "Yes. Alex also told me that Leah's condition was serious. Possibly…" He paused. "Possibly…fatal."

"Sean, what are you saying?"

"She thought that if Faison was offering some sort of help, we had no choice but to take it."

"So did you _try_ and wake me?"

Sean rested his elbows on the table, rubbing his temple, indifferent to the family that sat down a few chairs down from them. Oblivious to everything but Anna's reactions. "Of course we tried to wake you! But we couldn't."

"Are you saying I missed my chance to help my daughter?" Anna looked at him angrily. "My chance to finally kill that bastard?"

Sean closed his eyes. "Alex suggested that... she could meet with him instead of you."

Anna looked at him incredulously. "That's insane." She almost laughed out loud at the absurdity of what he was suggesting. "Of course you told her that was crazy."

"I did. We all did. But she convinced us otherwise."

"She _what_?"

"She convinced us it was the only way to give Leah a fighting chance."

Anna couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Sean…tell me you didn't buy it? I mean…god, Sean. We don't even look _that_ much alike. Her hair…her accent…if Faison's been following me he'd know the difference in a second."

"She went to a hair salon, she borrowed some of your clothes…believe me, Anna, she was your mirror image last night. Even Robin was shocked at how much she looked like you."

'_Robin too?_' Anna shook her head in disbelief. "No…Sean. You wouldn't do that. Tell me didn't let my sister meet with Faison..."

"Alex met him at the Pont D'Arcole at nine o'clock last night. We put an AT chip on her, and, in addition to me and O'Toole, we had seven men backing her up."

"_Dan O'Toole_ was in on this?"

"I needed back-up and we couldn't go through official channels."

"No, of course not, because no law enforcement agency in their right mind would let you go through with something insane like this!" Anna remembered Sean's expression when she first saw him in the waiting room upstairs. He was pale and his hands were ice cold. _He looked as though he had just_ _lost his best friend. _

"Sean…what happened when Alex got to the bridge?" she demanded, terrified of the answer now.

"We tracked her…we did everything we could to make sure we kept control of the situation. But…"

Anna dug her fingernails into her palm. "But _what,_ Sean?"

"Faison came in with two vans. He pulled Alex into one of them."

Anna's eyes widened in disbelief.

"He discovered the alpha tracking chip and made us believe she was in the wrong van."

"But you knew that could happen, right? You had the other van covered, didn't you?"

"We had one man car it but…" Sean's voice was starting to give out. "There…there was a vehicle switch, and we…we lost the van."

"Oh God," a groan escaped Anna's lips. "No."

"Anna, I'm sorry."

Anna felt the colour drain from her face. "Faison has my sister. That monster…"

She stood up, wrapping an arm around herself, the thought making her physically ill. "Damn you, Sean! _How could you let her do that_?"

"Anna, it was a mistake, I know but…"

She didn't give him a chance to finish. "_A mistake?_ Alex is a _doctor_, Sean…a healer! She doesn't belong in the world of Cesar Faison." Anna banged an angry fist onto the table. "How _dare_ you let her fight my battles for me!"

"We thought we could protect her…"

"With what? An goddamn alpha tracking chip?" she asked bitterly. "You know that's _precisely_ Faison's game. Gadgets, electronics." She wiped an angry tear from her face, "Damn you, Sean…you _knew_ he had to have an AT scanner! What the hell were you thinking?"

For the first time since she saw him come into the waiting room, Anna caught a trace of anger in his expression too.

"I didn't know what to think when I saw that note!" he shot back. "All I could think was why in God's name didn't you tell anyone that Faison made contact with you?"

Anna's anger mounted. "Tell _you_? So you could get yourself killed going after him? Like Robert?"

"Is that what you think will happen if you ask someone for help?"

Anna glared at him. "Faison is _my_ battle to fight. Not yours, not Robert's, not Leah's or Robin's…and most certainly not Alex's!"

"That's not how it works, sweetheart."

"Oh yes it is." She turned on her heels and started walking away.

"Anna…wait!" Sean jumped up after her. The family that sat next to them stopped their conversation to stare at them.

Anna didn't make the slightest effort to slow down.

Sean grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to stop. "Anna, I know you hate me right now. But we have to be on the same side in this…for Alex's sake."

"Let go of me!" Anna couldn't shake the blind anger she felt towards Sean.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry…I'll say it a hundred times if it'll make a difference. I'm so damn sorry that it even entered my mind to go along with Alex's crazy idea. I can't remember a time in my life when I've regretted something this much." He lowered his eyes. He was beyond tired. "If I could take your sister's place, I would…in an instant. If I could turn back time, I would! _But I_ _can't!_ It happened and now I need your help to get Faison."

The words had no impact on Anna.

"I said let go of me..."

"Damn it, Anna!" he yelled, not releasing his grip. It was in that grip that she suddenly reminded him of the headstrong young woman he'd first met over two decades ago. Anna had the ability to frustrate him like no one else this world. And yet it was also what made her real. What made him love and admire her.

"I know you hate me right now…but I said I _need _your help to find Alex! This isn't about me any more, it's about _her_!"

"Oh _now,_ all of a sudden, it's about her," Anna shot back. "Of course it didn't occur to you to put my sister first when Alex suggested using herself as bait, did it?"

Sean cringed at the sting of her words. "That's not fair, Anna…"

"Fair?" she demanded, fighting back tears. "Is there _anything_ fair about _any_ of this?"

"Sean? Mom? What's going on?"

Sean Donely was the first to see Robin approaching, her expression frightened. He released his grip on Anna.

"Is Alex okay?"

Anna wiped away a tear. "No…no, she's not."

"Sean?" Robin looked at him, uncomprehending. "Is she hurt?"

"Faison managed to get away with her. We don't know where she is right now."

Anna felt her knees go weak, and she pulled out a chair. "I can't believe all of you were involved in this." She eyed Sean accusingly. "You and Dan." Her glance moved to Robin. "And you… you all let my sister walk into that trap. And for what? For _nothing. _The supposed help that Faison offered is nowhere."

Robin shook her head, upset and close to tears too. "No, Mom…you're wrong. It wasn't for nothing. It's why David wanted to stop Leah's drug regimen, because we received a vial containing a serum…"

Anna gave her a puzzled look. "A serum?"

"David ran some lab tests with Leah's blood. We think it's a cure. For Leah."

"I don't understand…"

"If Faison _gave_ this virus to my sister," Robin added, her expression sombre. "He did it knowing he had the cure on hand. To blackmail you."

_Intensive Care Unit_

_-_

David Hayward closed his eyes for just a moment; unaware that they had snapped shut on him involuntarily, when suddenly he felt a man's hand on his shoulder.

It made him jerk out of his light sleep.

"What…?"

Instead of Dr. Kazemi or Sean, it was another familiar face that blocked his line of vision.

Dimitri Marick.

"Dimitri?"

"David." When Dimitri said his name it sounded more like an acknowledgement of David's presence, rather than a greeting.

David knew only a handful of men that could enter a room and literally turn heads. Dimitri Marick was one of them. It was a mystifying gift according to David, because Dimitri possessed no one extraordinary trait that set him apart from any other man.

The Count was at least ten years his senior, probably more, David guessed. He wasn't particularly tall, or muscular or even handsome. The suit he wore today would have looked ordinary on anyone else. Yet on Dimitri Marick its dark blue colour had a timeless elegance. _Confidence. Elegance. Charisma. _All the things that couldn't be bought, or learned, Dimitri Marick possessed in abundance, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Even the ice-cold aloofness of Alex Devane would have had a hard time resisting _that,_ David thought as he observed him.

With his three-day beard and dishevelled clothes, David felt surprisingly small next to Dimitri Marick.

Dimitri's expression showed no pleasure in seeing him, reminding David that Dimitri Marick didn't like him.

Although the Count had shown David a fair amount of gratitude for his part in helping him recover from his illness, Dimitri was also fiercely loyal to his wife and Alex was unlikely to have told Dimitri a single favourable thing about David Hayward.

"I'm surprised to see you here. How is your daughter?" he asked David, with what sounded like genuine concern.

"Leah is going to be fine," he answered.

"Her condition has improved then?"

David shook his head. "Not yet. But it will."

Dimitri paused, unsure of what to make of his cryptic answer. "That's good news…I'm very relieved for you."

"Thank you…she's my only child." A sheepish smile escaped David's lips. "It's strange, I only just met her and there isn't anything I wouldn't do for her. Leah, she's…" He fished for the word. "_Everything_. She means everything to me."

Dimitri's expression softened. "You're a father now. It's normal…I know."

"You have a son too…I forget. He lives in the States doesn't he?"

Dimitri smiled. "Anton. Yes, he does. However, I also have another son now."

David's eyes widened. "Is Alex…?"

"No…" Dimitri's aristocratic features spread into a smile. "No, she's not. We adopted a boy from Romania last year. I suppose Anna hasn't told you?"

"We, uh…we haven't spoken much."

Dimitri said nothing and David wondered how well the Count knew Anna. David knew that Anna kept in touch with Alex, but he had no idea whether or not that included any sort of friendship with Dimitri.

'God, there's so much I don't know about you anymore…' he thought regretfully.

"I've come to see, Alex," Dimitri said, interrupting David's thoughts. "I haven't had any luck getting a hold of her at Anna's apartment or on her mobile, so I figured she might be here at the hospital."

David remembered Sean's glum expression as he came to see Anna and it sent a chill up his spine. In all his worry for Leah, he hadn't stopped to think that maybe something had gone wrong with the set-up to trap Cesar Faison.

'But if something _had_ gone wrong we wouldn't have the serum,' David realized. _That_ was a reassuring thought.

"I haven't seen her here," was all he told Dimitri.

"She's not at the hospital?"

"I…I think maybe you ought to speak to Anna."

"Why? Does she know where my wife is?"

David felt a sudden, urgent need to know what happened on that bridge. "She, uh…she may."

Dimitri gave him a puzzled look. "Is Anna with your daughter?"

"No. She left with Sean Donely. I think they were headed for the cafeteria downstairs."

"Fine. I'll find them."

David jumped out of the waiting room chair he was sitting in. If things hadn't gone well on the bridge, there was no telling how Dimitri would react.

"Wait. I'll go with you."


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

_Alexei Estate, Russia_

_-_

As soon as Alex felt Faison's touch, she brushed it off.

"Don't you dare touch me…"

Faison let go of her, his eyes narrowing. Hurt. "I don't want you to be afraid, Anna. That's all."

Alex glared at him, not bothering to wipe away her tears. "You said you were going to help my daughter. _How_?"

"I did," he replied, still kneeling on the floor next to her. "You know I keep my promises."

"_How?"_

"I sent a cure for her virus to the Hopital St. Michel. A couriered envelope in your sister's name. I knew she would know what to do with it."

Alex observed him, trying to feign a semblance of composure. If Faison had couriered an envelope to the hospital in _her_ name, would anyone else have signed for it? And if not, where was it? Leah's cure could be left in limbo in some courier depot.

"I don't believe you. Let me call the hospital in Paris. I want to hear it from Leah's doctors. I want to speak to my sister!"

"Of course I'll let you call the hospital." He looked as though he'd expected her to demand precisely that. "But not yet. In a few days, when they will have released your daughter."

Alex wanted to wipe the smirk off his hideous face. Wanted to strike out at him, as she'd done on the bridge, but this time the anger was tinged with fear and she stopped herself. The martial arts skills she had been force fed years ago under Charlotte's thumb, were now rusty and inadequate. Should Faison choose to strike back, her poor fighting skills would raise his suspicions right away.

It would be an instant reminder that Anna was the fighter, not Alex.

She bit her lip.

'Except that Anna _would_ fight him,' she thought bitterly. Anna wouldn't hide her desire to kill him for what he'd done to Leah.

"I want to know _right now_…I swear to God… if you don't let me find out about my daughter's condition," she threatened, pushing herself off the floor.

"I said you could," he repeated. "Not yet. But soon."

"_That's not good enough_!"

Faison stood up alongside her, relieved by her energy. Relieved that the drug he injected her with, as well as the journey here, seemed to have left no lingering physical effects.

He ached to touch her again, but he knew he couldn't. Knew that she'd lash out at him, and she would hurt him physically, because he'd refuse to strike back. "You have to trust me, Anna."

For the first time since entering the room he caught a trace of desperation in her eyes alongside the anger.

"I _have_ to know if my baby is alright…"

Faison clasped his hands together, as if by some miracle the gesture would lessen his desire to touch her. "I said she will be. I would never harm your daughter. You have to know that, Anna."

"You already did, you bastard! You made her ill!"

Faison cringed. Guilt was not an emotion he was terribly familiar with, yet Anna could extract it from him with the same ease with which she managed to send all his other senses into turmoil. "I would never hurt her," he repeated. "She's yourchild."

"You really believe what you're saying, don't you?" Alex swallowed. "There's a term for people like you. They're called delusional. Psychotic!"

Faison smiled in an effort to make sure she didn't see the sting her words left. Only she could make his heart both bleed and soar in the span of seconds. "You know I'm telling the truth, Anna. I've never hurt you and I would never hurt your children."

"No, you're right," she spat. "Injecting my daughter with a virus, stalking me and bringing me here against my own will, didn't hurt. Blowing up a boat that killed Robert and almost killed me, _that_ didn't hurt either!"

Faison frowned. _She didn't know_. Even now after all this time. Anna still believed that _he _caused the tanker explosion. No wonder her hatred for him ran so deeply. It would make everything so much more difficult.

It didn't matter, he thought. He could handle the challenge. He _would_ handle the challenge; if it meant protecting her from the truth.

_Because if you remembered that day…remembered what you did that day, you might never forgive yourself._

'The truth might be unbearable for you,' he thought sadly. "Sometimes things aren't what they seem," was what he said.

"Let me call the hospital. _Please_."

Her voice was small now. Desperate. It tore at him, making him dig his nails into the palm of his hands so as not to give in to her plea. "In two days, Anna." he said softly, wishing she would understand that to call today wouldn't answer her questions. Chances are the baby wouldn't have been injected with the serum yet. Alexandra Marick would undoubtedly insist on testing it first.

He watched her wipe away a tear and Faison fought back the urge to comfort her.

"What exactly do you want from me?" she asked, composing herself. "Are you going to keep me a prisoner here?"

"I told you, Anna, All I want from you is a chance."

"A chance…for what?"

"A chance for you to realize that we're not as different as you think. You and I." Faison paused, observing her. "And for that I need time. Alone with you."

"You think spending time with you will make me see you in a different light?" She snickered. "After all you've done?"

Faison said nothing. Her biting sarcasm was hard to swallow sometimes. He had forgotten that about her.

"Where_ is_ here?" she demanded.

"You're a couple of hundred miles north of Moscow. On a country estate named after Tsar Nicholas' only son and heir, Alexis, or as his mother, Alexandra used to call him, _Alexei_." Faison was pleased to see he held her attention now. "The estate was meant to be a playground of sorts for the Tsarevitch. It was Alexandra who convinced Nicholas to purchase it for Alexei, saying the air in these parts would have restorative and curative powers for their sickly son."

Alex tried to recall the fragments of European history she'd learned an eternity ago. It wasn't so much the last Russian Tsar and his wife that stuck in her mind, as was the ill heir. Alexis, the Tsar's only son was perhaps the most famous haemophiliac in history. Although devastating at the time, his illness had no lasting impact on the course of history, given that the entire family, including young Alexis, was brutally murdered during the Russian Revolution, thus ending Tsarist rule in Russia.

"Rumour has it that little Alexei never set foot in this estate," Faison explained. "After the revolution, the property fell into the hands of the Communists. Its contents were raided and then it stood empty for almost eighty years, slowly falling into disrepair until plans to convert it into a museum fell through and the glasnost government of the time decided to sell it to the highest bidder."

"You?"

Faison laughed. "No…not me. A local businessman, who in turn sold it to me last year. He purchased it as a novelty and tried to recreate its glory days by furnishing it with replicas of its original contents. He saw it as an exclusive country getaway, a place to take his associates hunting and to make deals. In other words, to show off."

"But he sold it to you instead?"

"He thought it would be a simple drive from Moscow. But in reality it's not. The roads in this region are poorly maintained, barely traversable in the winter. Moreover, the wildlife is meagre and the cost of the estate's upkeep is enormous. You could say, for him, it was a poor investment, whereas I appreciated it for the exact same reasons he didn't. The estate is a historic treasure. It's isolated. It still needs extensive renovations, but I'm willing to give it the time and care it deserves. It reminded me of you, Anna. I saw it as a beautiful challenge."

Alex shivered at the analogy. "You're insane."

Faison smiled thinly. "At a time like this, it must seem like I am. But I assure you, I'm not…I know you're furious with me and I know that winning your trust seems like an impossible feat. But I believe that given time, you _will_ change your mind about me."

"You took me away from my life, from my daughters…"

"You can bring your daughters here anytime you wish. I could arrange it with ease."

Alex shuddered at the thought. "I would never…"

"Never is such a long time, Anna."

"_How_ long?" she demanded. " How long are you going to keep me a prisoner here?"

Faison met her eyes, still smiling, "You're not a prisoner, Anna. But the duration of your stay…that, my love, depends entirely on you."

_St. Michel Hospital, Paris, France_

_-_

Anna was staring at Robin when she suddenly spotted them from the corner of her eye.

David and Dimitri Marick.

A sinking feeling filled the pit of her stomach. "Oh no…"

Anna stood, alongside Sean. "Does he know?" she whispered.

"Who?"

Anna didn't have to answer. Sean Donely heard David's voice as the two men entered the cafeteria. She also didn't have to tell him who the other man was. Tall, dark, impeccably dressed and unmistakably European. Sean had heard enough about Dimitri Marick to know it had to be him.

"No," he answered, his voice as low as Anna's. "He doesn't know."

Sean watched as Anna closed her eyes, her pallor suddenly frightening him. The blows kept coming. One after the other. Relentlessly. Faison. Leah. Alex. And now Dimitri. How many more could she deflect?

"I'll handle him," he told her.

She looked at him angrily, a hint of colour returning to her face. "No you won't. The last thing Dimitri needs is to hear this from anyone but me. Alex is _my_ sister."

"You had _nothing_ to do with this…" Sean started. He stopped when he caught her angry glare. "Fine," he mouthed. "Have it your way."

"Hello Anna," Dimitri said. "David says Leah's condition is improving. I'm very relieved for you."

"Thank you…" she said, swallowing as the words got caught in her throat.

She noticed his eyes taking in her sombre expression, noticed that they questioned her even before he spoke.

"Is everything alright?" he asked. "I've come to see Alex and David said you know where she is."

Anna looked at David, Sean and Robin. "Do you mind giving me and Dimitri some time alone, please."

David shook his head. "I don't think so…"

Anna shot him an angry look. "I _need_ a few minutes alone with Dimitri."

"Fine," David conceded with a frown. "A few minutes."

She watched as David left the cafeteria, putting his arm around Robin's shoulder, taking her with him.

Sean Donely hadn't budged.

"_Do you mind_?" she reiterated.

"You can give me all the angry looks you want. I'm staying right here," he told her.

"Is somebody going to tell me what's going on?" Dimitri demanded. "Is something wrong with Alex?"

_Further down the hall_

_-_

"Why does Mom _do_ that?" Robin asked him, unable to stop the tears that fell freely down her cheeks, her pace quickening in response. "Dimitri's going to _lose_ it when he finds out what happened and he's going to take it out on Mom! And what does she do? Instead of letting us back her up, she tells us all to get lost!" Robin wiped away a tear on the sleeve of her sweater. "I should've stayed there…like Sean. He doesn't give in to her stubbornness like the rest of the world."

David couldn't help a lopsided smile. "Robin, slow down…please. Sit down and tell me what happened."

"Don't _you_ treat me like a child too!" she shouted back. A passing doctor shot her an angry look and told her to keep her voice down.

"Robin, you're upset," he said softly. "You're upset and I need to know what happened. _Please_?" He put his hand back on her shoulder. Unable to find a quiet seating area, he nudged her towards the nearest staircase. Away from the chaos of the hallway, he gave Robin another nudge to sit down on the steps.

David fished in his pockets for a tissue to hand her, finding a rumpled napkin that bore the logo of the airline he took on his way to Paris. "Here…"

Robin blew her nose, angry that the act did nothing to stem the flow of tears. Wasn't it enough that Leah was fighting for her life? Why couldn't Alex at least be safe from Faison's tentacles?

She didn't notice that David took a seat next to her. That he put an arm around her and said nothing as she tried in vain to bring the tears under control.

"It's okay, Robin," he whispered.

Robin had to remind herself that this man, whom she had only just met, wasn't a stranger. He was Leah's father. Allowing him to comfort her wasn't as absurd as it felt right now.

David too, couldn't explain what had propelled him to put his arm around this young woman he barely knew. He was never particularly paternal, at least not until forty-eight hours ago. Nor was he particularly adept when it came to compassion and kindness, God knows Leticia reminded him of that fact often enough. On top of it all, he was so exhausted his mind could barely form a coherent thought. Then there's was the minor detail that an unknown anti-viral serum was running through his veins.

It felt strange comforting Anna's daughter, yet, for the first time since Leo died, he felt like he _belonged_. Right here where he was.

"I'm sorry," Robin whispered, blowing her nose on his Air France serviette for the second time. "I hardly know you and here I am sobbing on your shoulder."

"It's alright," he managed a smirk. "I won't hold it against you."

"I think I'm okay now."

"Tell me what Sean told you."

"He said the set up didn't go as planned. Apparently Faison outwitted them and he got Alex. He carted her off somewhere."

The news cut through his exhaustion. No matter what his feelings for Alex, the thought of what she was facing, because of what she'd done for his daughter, made him feel awful. "I thought Sean had professional men backing her up…that's what you said isn't it?"

"Obviously it wasn't enough."

"Do they have any idea where he took her? Or whether he still thinks she's Anna?"

Robin shook her head. "I don't know…I barely had two seconds to see Sean when you and Dimitri came down to the cafeteria. I don't know any more than what I've told you."

"Sean works for some intelligence agency, doesn't he?" David asked her.

"The WSB. Same as Mom and Dad did."

"So he should have ample resources to find her. After all this Faison guy is known to law enforcement agencies, right?"

Robin shuddered at the thought. "He is, but he's smart. He won't be easy to find."

"But once he realizes she's not Anna, won't he let her go?"

As if anything was that simple when it came to Cesar Faison. "I don't know…"

She bit her lip, forcing herself not to think of her aunt and unleash another flood of tears. "I want to go back to the cafeteria. Dimitri will be so angry. I don't want him to think it's Mom's fault. She can't handle this on top of everything else right now."

"Your Mom's pretty tough."

"Everyone says that…but it's not always the truth. This has to be killing her."

"We also have someone else to take care of," David reminded her.

"Leah…I know. You're right." He _was_ right. Leah needed them more than her mother right now. They had to run another blood test on David. If it came back clear, they had to find a way to administer the serum without anyone noticing. There was still so much to do.

Robin eyed him. "Afterwards…will you check on Mom?"

David nodded, not sure whether he would be able to keep his eyes open long enough for 'afterwards.' "I will. I promise."

"Do you still love her?"

It was an odd question to ask in the chaos of the moment and had Robin given herself a second to think about it, she wouldn't have posed it. But it slipped out. Now she wasn't sure whether she really wanted to hear the answer.

"Very much. I never stopped, Robin."

The answer came much quicker than Robin expected.

It made her smile. In spite of everything.

_Hospital Cafeteria_

_-_

Judging from the expression in the Count's eyes, Sean deducted he wasn't Anna's biggest fan. He had a gut feeling that, no matter how bad they were already, things were about to take a sudden turn for the worse.

"I'm sorry, but Alex isn't okay," Sean spat out before Anna had a chance to say anything.

Anna watched as the words hit Dimitri. Watched as the colour drained from his face. His physical reaction was hard to watch.

"What happened?" Dimitri asked, trying to keep his voice level.

"A man by the name of Cesar Faison is, _or was_, in Paris. He was the former head of an organization called the DVX which…"

"I know who Cesar Faison is," Dimitri cut off Sean Donely, turning to Anna. "_You_ used to work for him."

Anna frowned, feeling the sting of his words. It wasn't a question. It was an accusation. Obviously Dimitri Marick no longer cared about putting on a front when it came to his dislike of her.

"It was a lifetime ago," Sean cut in.

"Who_ are_ you anyway?" Dimitri demanded.

"I'm sorry...I haven't introduced myself," Sean cringed. "My name is Sean Donely. I'm a good friend of Anna's. I work for the World Security Bureau."

"Why are you telling me something's wrong with Alex?" Dimitri looked at Anna, losing the composure he was struggling to keep. Alex _had_ to be alright. Two days ago they had dinner together. Made love. He could still feel the texture of her hair against his skin. The scent of her fragrance in his nostrils.

He didn't have a chance yet to tell her that Andrei was a Marick now.

Alex had to be alright. _Had to_. Anything else was unimaginable.

He sucked in a breath of air, hearing its hiss as it struggled to enter his lungs. "Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?" he demanded not of Sean, but Anna.

"Cesar Faison made Leah sick. He injected her with a virus in order to blackmail me into meeting him. Into playing his games again."

Dimitri shook his head, shocked as well as angry. "Anna, _how_ is that possible?"

"He sent me a note saying he wanted to meet with me. But when it arrived, I wasn't…" Anna nearly swallowed the words. "I wasn't in a position to do so."

"You were unconscious. Drugged," Sean corrected her, seeing the willingness in her words to take the blame.

"The note Faison sent said he would cure Leah if I met with him," Anna continued.

"But you didn't…" Dimitri pointed out. "Yet Leah's condition is improving…"

"Alex met with him," Anna managed. "She met with him and he kidnapped her."

Dimitri shook his head, the notion making him physically ill. "No…no, I don't believe you. Why would you let her do that?"

He had to sit down. His knees suddenly felt as though they were made of rubber, unable to support his impossibly heavy weight.

"You let her walk into his trap? _Just like that_?"

"We had back up," Sean explained. "We had nine men plus a microchip tracking device to make sure he couldn't get anywhere with her. We thought we could protect her."

"But you didn't..."

"We did everything in our power…"

Dimitri didn't hear Sean's words, his eyes drifting to Anna instead. "_How could you_?"

Anna fought back tears.

"Anna _didn't_," Sean reminded him. "None of us _asked_ her to do this. She offered. It was Alex's idea."

"Of course it was," Dimitri shot back, finding enough strength in his anger to stand back up. He glared at Anna. "Because there's nothing she won't do for her sister. _Nothing_."

"I would have done the…" Anna started.

"No," Dimitri shook his head, cutting her off. "You would _not_." He paused, choosing his words. "You…you couldn't even bother to return my wife's phone calls and now you're saying you would have risked your life for her? Surely not even you believe that, Anna. How my times has Alex invited you to come and spend time at Vadsel? You're her only flesh and blood family and she so desperately wanted you to be a part of her life. And you, you can't even find the time for a phone call. _'Hey sis,_ _congratulations on adopting a child'_, _'Hey sis, thanks for spending half a day on the_ _phone helping my daughter with her med school questions,'_ …no, not Anna Devane. Anna Devane has more exciting things to do. The only time my wife hears from you, is when you're in trouble…isn't it?"

Anna shook her head, unable to stop the tears that stung her eyes. _How could words hurt this much?_ "That's not true…"

"What do you think you're doing?" Sean demanded, staring at Dimitri. "If you're looking for someone to blame, then look at me! _I'm_ the one who couldn't protect Alex. If it were up to Anna this would never have happened!"

Dimitri laughed bitterly. "Of course not…it's never your fault, is it, Anna? Alex tells me you're a rebel. A rule breaker. She admires that about you. She tells me that that's why you flirted with the DVX. But, between you and me, I think it was more than that. I think you joined Faison out of greed and boredom. Isn't that right, Anna? Cesar Faison provided you with the danger and excitement you wanted out of life…and when his psychotic nature turned on you, when he became _obsessed_ with you, then you got scared. But by then it was too late…too late for your husband, anyway."

Sean shook his head in disgust, "What the hell does this bitter tirade have to do with what happened last night?" _And how in the world do you_ _know all this from mere discussions with your wife?_

Dimitri's eyes bore into Anna. "_Everything_. It has _everything_ to do with what happened."

Sean watched as Anna wept, unable to speak.

"My wife almost lost her mind trying to escape the world of Charlotte Devane. She fought against that woman her whole life…while Anna embraced that world. She _sought_ it out. And she keeps pulling Alex back into it…" He turned back to Anna "Because Alex could never turn you down, because she loves you so damn much."

Sean tightened his lips, hating the way Dimitri's words tore at Anna. "You're upset…I can understand that. I have a wife too, I know this is unbearable news for you…but _please_ stop this. _This_ isn't going to help, Alex. Alex would hate…"

"This," Dimitri seethed. "_This_ …is long overdue. My cousin Gillian is _dead_ because of choices that Anna made! And now you're telling me that my wife is in the hands of a murderer because..."

"As much as you want someone to blame, this _isn't_ Anna's fault…and if you don't stop this madness…I _will _throw your ass out of here," Sean threatened. Dimitri Marick was lashing out at Anna without justification. It was something that Donely knew he wouldn't soon forgive.

Dimitri ignored Sean. "What are you doing to get her back?"

"We're going to do whatever it takes."

"_We?"_

"Anna, and me, and Dan O'Toole of Scotland Yard, the three of us combined have access to global intelligence databases that will make it easier to track him

"Tell me you've notified the police?" Dimitri asked incredulously.

"We don't believe it's in Alex's best interests to notify the police."

"You don't believe it's in her best interest to have professional law enforcement involved in finding her?" Dimitri shook in disbelief. "If you don't go to the police right now, I will and I'll make sure you never set foot in another intelligence agency, Mr. Donely!"

"Faison has informants everywhere," Sean cut in, unfazed by Dimitri's threats and no longer bothering to hide his dislike of the Count. "If he finds out he has the wrong twin…there's no telling what he'll do. It could be a death sentence for Alex. The less people that know about the switch the better the odds for Alex."

"Maybe if he realizes he doesn't have Anna, he'll let her go. Have you considered_ that_ possibility?" Dimitri countered.

"No," Anna said quietly. "He won't, Dimitri. That's not how Faison thinks. He'll be furious and he'll take it out on Alex…"

Dimitri swallowed, unwillingly to go there. "If anything happens to her…"

"If you go running off to the authorities you're increasing the chances of him finding out…"

"What are _your_ chances of finding her? If your investigative skills are as good as your bodyguard skills, I'll take my chances with the police…"

"We'll find her," Anna interrupted him. "I swear to you, if it's the last thing I do."

"I want my own men helping you out."

"The more people we have looking for Faison the greater the chances he finds out about the ruse…" Sean reminded him.

"Maybe I didn't make myself clear," Dimitri glared at both of them. "I'm _going_ to bring in some of my own men to help find my wife. I wasn't making a suggestion."

"We don't know if we can trust…" Sean started but stopped when he felt Anna's hand on his arm.

"It's fine, Sean. Dimitri has a right to do this," she said softly, looking at him. "I know you wouldn't bring in anyone we can't trust."

"I don't trust _you_," he spat back. "Or _you_," he glared at Sean. "So maybe that's a wrong assumption, but you can be assured I wouldn't put Alex's life at risk, if that's what you're trying to suggest."

"She didn't do this for me, Dimitri," Anna added, wanting him to know. "She did it for Leah."

For the first time since Anna saw him, Dimitri's expression softened. "I would never wish any harm on your little girl, Anna. Never." He paused, "If you need to take care of your daughter, you do that. But after that…I swear, you better do everything in your power to make sure we find Alex before it's too late."

_Alexei Estate, Russia_

_-_

"If you say I'm not a prisoner here, then why am I locked into this room?" Alex demanded.

"It's only to simplify things at the moment. You're free to wander the estate, Anna." Faison offered her a feeble smile, "I know you like your freedom. I wouldn't think to keep you locked inside four walls."

"And outside these four walls?"

"You're asking me whether it's possible to leave the estate?"

"Just in case I get the urge."

"Maximum security. Including barbed wire, electrical fencing, camera surveillance…and several guard dogs. A gilded gulag of sorts." His lips curved into a smile. "Minus the forced labour."

Alex's eyes widened. Afraid.

"I'm willing to make certain concessions, Anna. But I didn't go to the painstaking trouble of bringing you here so you can run off shortly afterwards."

_Don't let him see your fear. _

"You're saying I can leave this room as I wish?"

"Of course."

"Prove it."

Faison raised his chin and gestured towards the door. "Go ahead. It's open."

Alex walked towards it, surprised to find it was no longer locked shut. She peaked out into the corridor, into an old, dark hallway that matched the age of the room she was in.

A part of her wanted to run, as fast and as far as she could, praying he was lying, _bluffing_, about the security that surrounded the estate.

'There has to be a way out of here,' she thought, stifling her panic.

In spite of everything her instincts told her, she fought the urge to run out into the hallway. 'It's foolish and pointless,' a voice told her.

'It's not what Anna would do.'

Ignoring Faison, even as she felt his eyes boring into her back, Alex took a tentative step outside.

_Sheremetyevo International Airport, Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Robert Scorpio stared outside the window, just as the Aeroflot Ilyushin 62 made its bumpy landing on the runway. It was an older plane, a workhorse in an airline notorious for pushing its fleet to the limit.

The flight leaving Africa had been delayed for five hours on account of a 'mechanical inspection', and once the aging plane was finally in the air, it turned back into Kinshasa twenty minutes later. Apparently the inspection hadn't been entirely successfull.

Robert cringed as a loud, screeching noise accompanied the ferocious braking efforts of the pilot, finally bringing the panting machine to a halt near the end of the runway.

Robert thought he noticed a bead of sweat on the forehead of one of the two agents accompanying him.

"I think we're going to live," he mouthed.

The black man seated next to him heard Robert and he smiled, revealing a mouth of perfect, white teeth. "I was told working with you is a lucky thing, Agent Saunders."

Robert smirked. "I guess we'll find out won't we?" Bringing two black, African agents into rural Russia wasn't a lucky thing. It was suicide, really.

One of the keys to survival in espionage was the ability to blend in. To render oneself invisible. Two black men in rural Russia would stick out like sore thumbs. After seeing them once, they'd remain in people's conversations for days afterwards.

Yet when Robert had requested two white agents, without explaining why, Sampson had, predictably, told him he could have the two black men or none.

"_Where do you think you are, Scorpio? This is Africa. Most agents are African. If they're not good enough for you, you can go it alone."_

It wasn't a question of good. It was a question of invisibility. And in Russia, two black men were anything but invisible.

Robert stared at the perfect blue sky as the plane puttered into its holding bay.

It was a problem. A big problem.

_Alexei Estate, Russia_

_-_

Alex walked out into the corridor, observing her surroundings.

'It's what Anna would do,' she reminded herself.

She gazed up along the dark walls of the hallway, at the oil paintings that lined it, oblivious to their worth. Dimitri would appreciate them. He had a keen eye for antiques.

'_So would Anna.' _

To Alex they were heavy and overbearing, much like the house itself.

She wanted to get out of the building, to see its surroundings, and when she spotted a staircase, Alex walked down it, her hands running along a smooth, mahogany handrail that was undoubtedly added during a recent renovation.

Alex spotted a woman near the bottom of the staircase.

She had light blonde hair and wore a colourful print dress that flattered her full-bodied figure and made for a stark contrast to Alex's own dark clothes.

The woman eyed Alex with open curiosity. Studying her.

"You must be Anna Devane," she announced in a thick Russian accent devoid of emotion. "Welcome to Alexei Estate."


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

_One week later_

_Anna's Apartment, Paris, France_

_-_

David's silhouette was framed by the bay window of the apartment. The day's last rays of sun bathed him and Leah in a warm orange glow.

He held the baby in his arms, her legs draped lazily over them. Her pink face looked up at his. Smiling.

It was a beautiful moment and Anna wished she could capture it in a photograph. She observed them in silence, storing it in her memory instead.

Only when David turned around, did Anna hand him the baby bottle she had in her hand. "Maybe you ought to give it to her. She looks quite comfortable where she is."

David bent down to kiss Leah's nose, enjoying how the baby's smile widened in response. "What do you think, Princess? Dinner with Seaview Hospital's Director of Cardiology? Or with Pine Valley's former Chief of Police?"

Anna smirked. "Tough choice."

"She says she'd prefer the Chief of Police, but she'll dine with me tonight."

Anna bit back a grin. "My daughter the diplomat."

David took a seat on the window's ledge, leaning against the glass with his back, while deftly giving Leah the bottle with his free hand.

"You're getting very good at that," Anna pointed out.

David gave her a lopsided smile, as though wanting to say something but then declining as he watched Leah's hands clasp the bottle.

"She's hungry, isn't she?" Anna noted.

"She is. It's an excellent sign. I think, within a few days, she'll regain the weight she lost."

Anna observed her daughter, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. Looking at Leah now made it almost impossible to imagine the same baby a week ago, inconsolable and listless, in a hospital bed surrounded by tubes and machines.

Anna's thoughts drifted back a week, to David and Robin's clandestine efforts to give Leah the serum. She remembered Robin distracting the nurse on one occasion, and then slyly taking aside Doctor Kazemi on another, to discuss her sister's condition, while David secretly gave Leah the cure she needed to beat the virus.

Leah's condition improved less than a day after the first injection. Forty-eight hours after her second injection, her symptoms had all but vanished and Doctor Kazemi announced her recovery was nothing short of miraculous.

Three days later Leah was discharged with a clean bill of health, and now she'd been home almost two days. Alert. Happy. Her smile radiated through the apartment again as though the last two weeks had never happened.

'B_ut they did_,' Anna thought darkly, watching her daughter finish the bottle of formula.

After the feeding, she observed David as he walked around the apartment with Leah, burping her before she had the chance to fall into another contented nap.

He had a natural ease with her and, as if she instinctively knew who he was, Leah relaxed in his arms. She trusted him implicitly.

Anna allowed herself a moment to lean against the window and close her eyes. Her eyelids stung with fatigue and the headache that had been a mere nuisance when her eyes were open, worsened when they were closed.

They couldn't have been closed more than a few minutes when she sensed David sitting down next to her.

Anna stifled a yawn, seeing that Leah was fast asleep in his arms.

"Why don't you put her to bed?"

"I will. In a few minutes…she's comfortable here for now."

The sun had gone down and they sat in the darkness now, the glass pane cooling off from the day's heat and humidity.

Anna stood up to light a candle, not wanting to interrupt Leah's sleep with the harsh light of the ceiling lamp above. The baby looked angelic sleeping in her father's arms and Anna had a difficult time taking her eyes off her.

But she didn't have time for indulgences. Nor for contemplating David's role in her daughter's life.

Now that David had held his daughter in his arms, Anna doubted he'd leave her life the same way he'd entered it. He adored Leah and he spent every waking moment of the day with his daughter. Joint custody, visitation rights…things Anna hadn't thought to consider a few weeks ago were all bridges she'd have to cross sooner rather than later.

"I should head back to the office for a while. Dan called earlier to say he might have a lead on the phone call that came in to the hospital switchboard, the one we suspect came from Alex."

Anna tore herself away from her sleeping daughter. Her sister was the only thing that mattered right now. The rest she'd deal with later.

David gave her a look that told her he didn't agree with her decision to leave again, and Anna half expected him to tell her as much.

"You should get some rest too."

Anna pushed a strand of hair from her forehead. "I will. Later."

David nodded, saying nothing.

His silent concession made her uncomfortable. "You've changed, David Hayward,' she thought. A year ago he'd have argued with her.

"You want to talk about it?" he asked softly.

"Talk about what?"

"Whatever's eating you up?"

"You mean aside from the fact that my sister is in the hands of a madman and I have no idea where to find him?"

"Yeah. Aside from that."

"That's not enough?"

"It is, but there's something else bothering you." His words coaxed her with surprising gentleness. Maybe holding a baby in his arms brought that out in her ex-husband. Or maybe it was a combination of the candles and the soft scent of sandalwood in the darkened room.

"When I told Dimitri what happened to Alex, I realized for the first time how much he blames me for putting my sister in danger," she told him. "He basically said that Alex risked her life for a sister who couldn't bother to return her phone calls."

David narrowed his brows, shocked. "Why the hell would he say something like that?"

"Because it's the truth?"

"I don't believe that for one moment! You adore your sister. Even in the most insignificant arguments we'd have about her, you always defended her."

Anna sighed, hating the guilt that crept up her spine again. "She was constantly inviting me to Vadsel. I always turned her down. And if anyone made the effort to pick up the phone and make a call, it was always Alex. Never me."

"You were in the middle of a difficult pregnancy, you'd just gone through a divorce and relocated to a new city…a new job…obviously a trip to the Hungarian countryside wasn't the first thing on your mind."

"I _avoided_ her, David," she admitted quietly. _Why was it still so easy to confide in him?_ "I avoided Alex because I every time I contacted her it was because I needed her. It started when Bart called her to come to Northern Ontario. He swore her to secrecy because of the Black Box order, and meanwhile Dimitri went out of his mind with worry over Alex. Robin constantly calls her when she needs help with some medical question…and when Robin got sick this summer, what did I do? I called Alex." Anna paused, sighing. "I've always been very independent and I hated that…I hated that every time I called my sister, it was because I needed something from her. I wanted to prove to her that I didn't _need_ her." Anna lowered her eyes. "But I didn't know how…so I avoided her."

"I'm sure she didn't see it that way…"

"I've never felt uncomfortable in my skin, David. I've always known who I was…even if that someone wasn't perfect, I was okay with that and I've come to terms the mistakes I made. But next to Alex I always felt somehow…_less_. Less than what I could have been. I've made so _many_ wrong choices in my life and Alex _always_ seemed to make the right ones. It's as though she_ knew_, right from the start, what her path in life was. When her monster of a mother tried to deter her from that path, she fought against it, at the risk of losing her mind."

David got up, Leah still sleeping in his arms. "Baby, you put Alex on a pedestal. That's not fair to her...or you."

Anna watched as he quietly walked into Leah's room to settle the baby into the crib. When he came back he looked at her with concern. "Alex isn't perfect," he told her. The corner of his lips lifted into a smirk. "If that's all you need… a reminder of Alex's flaws, then I'm your man."

Anna returned his smile. "Right. What was I thinking?"

"I mean it, baby. Don't idolize her. It's not fair and it's not fitting."

"You know... you're right. I was too selfish and too concerned with not wanting her to think I needed her to ever consider, that maybe _she_ needed me." Anna bit back the tears that threatened to start falling again. She had cried too much lately. She wouldn't allow herself the indulgence now.

"What do you mean?"

"When Alex stayed here with me last week, there was one night when she woke up in the middle of the night because of a nightmare. It was _awful, _David…I've never seen her like that. She reminded me of some of the women I've seen at the police station, victims of violence and abuse suffering from post-traumatic stress syndrome. It's impossible to describe the way she looked at me…the terror in her eyes. When she opened up to me, I found out that she has these nightmares all the time."

"I didn't know."

"No one knew, except for Dimitri." Anna guiltily thought back to that night. "What if...? David, what if Alex has these nightmares wherever she is right now? Where the only person to comfort her is that…" Anna paused, holding the tears at bay. "That _monster_." She turned to face David. "Or what if the nightmares give her away?"

"Don't go there," he told her.

"How can I not?"

"Because imagining the worst does nothing for you or for Alex. It's pointless."

"I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I were the one that was taken from our parents, not Alex. Would I be heading up Charlotte's evil empire by now?"

"You'd have fought her too, even more so than Alex did."

"Are you so sure?"

The concern in his eyes grew. "Stop it, baby. The guilt and fear you carry around…all it does is hurt you."

Anna arched her brows.

"It tears at you. Emotionally…" David chided her. "And physically."

"Dimitri was right about so much of what he said."

"No…he wasn't. He was a thoughtless jerk for making accusations that he knows nothing about. As if Dimitri Marick is one to take the high horse when it comes to right and wrong. It's like someone living in a glass house throwing stones, considering some of the things he did before he married Alex."

Anna stood up from the window's ledge and ran her hand over the candle's flame, ignoring his outburst. "I need a favour from you," she said softly.

David said nothing, eyeing her.

"I have to find Alex. It has to be my only focus right now." She paused. "Yesterday Dan got a hold of some records that suggest Faison might own a couple of properties in Mexico as well as the US and Argentina. We may have to head down there ourselves. I can't do that unless I know someone is taking care of Leah."

"You don't have to ask…"

"I may not be home much until I find my sister. After everything that happened last week, all I want to do right now is look after my baby. I hate the thought of spending any time away from her…but I _have_ to do this."

"Come here..." David held out his hand for her. "Sit down for a sec."

"I shouldn't…I should go."

"Anna…"

Anna sighed, relenting with reluctance.

"I'll take care of our daughter. I won't let her out of my sight, I swear to you. But in return I want you to promise me something as well."

Part of her didn't want to know what that was. Of course, any favour she asked of him would be a perfect opportunity for some sort of blackmail, in this case most likely involving Leah. It would be classic David Hayward. Of course he hadn't changed. How foolish was she to even entertain the notion?

"Promise me you'll let me know if your headaches get worse."

Anna widened her eyes. That was the last thing she expected. She hadn't mentioned anything to him, not since the day she almost collapsed at the hospital. Not once. "I'm fine. It's just…stress."

"It probably is, but you almost had a stroke when you carried Leah. Your blood pressure skyrocketed and that combined with a medical history of amnesia and seizures, it means you could…."

"David, stop it!"

He gave her a look of frustration. "Look, I care because I…"

She didn't want to hear the rest. "_Don't_," was all she said.

She saw the hurt in his eyes, as soon as she said it.

"I wanted to say I care because… _I'm a doctor_," he emphasized the last words, wanting her to know he could play the game too. Just as well as she could. "I see the symptoms and they alarm me. That's all. I want you to promise me if anything changes…the intensity of the headaches, loss of feeling in the extremities, mood swings, dizziness, blurred vision, anything like that, that you'll _tell me_. That's all I'm asking."

"Fine," she replied icily. "It's a deal."

He inhaled deeply. "Good. And if you need something stronger and more effective than that over the counter stuff you're taking, please let me know."

Anna nodded, hating the ease with which he noticed everything she tried to hide. 'Some spy you are,' she thought. "I will." She paused, levelling her eyes with his. "Thank you, for taking care of Leah."

She heard him whisper something in return, but she already had her back to him.

_She's our little girl, Anna. Don't thank me._

The words echoed in her head, as she grabbed her keys from the dining room table. Not wanting to hear him wasn't the same as not being able to, she realized, forcing herself to shut both David and Leah out of her mind.

And to ignore the fact that she wanted nothing more than to stay right here.

Next to him.

_Earlier that day_

_Epsom, England_

_-_

Dimitri Marick wiped the sweat from his forehead. It was a long walk from the gravel parking lot to the bare, uninviting low-rise residence that housed the jockeys and stable hands.

The building's metal roof gleamed in the midday sunlight, reflecting its glare as Dimitri approached it. Next to it, the racetrack was abuzz with activity as more than a dozen riders prepared for a race.

Dimitri raised his sunglasses and squinted in the sun, to see if he could spot Andrei or Tempus Fugit. When he couldn't, Dimitri continued on the way to the residence, grateful to be out of the heat of the sun when he entered it.

'What is it about the midday sun in England that makes it so unbearable?' he thought, rolling up the sweat-drenched sleeves of his shirt as he went up the staircase that led to Andrei's room. It was warmer and sunnier in Hungary and yet the heat never bothered him there.

'_It bothers you because you're wondering how such perfect blue skies are possible when…' _

Dimitri caught a glimpse of his reflection in a glass doorway, appalled at what stared back at him; at the unruly, week-old, salt and pepper beard that covered his chin. 'You could have at least shaved before coming here…' he reprimanded himself.

He hadn't shaved since that day in Paris and he only vaguely remembered brief moments when he'd eaten and slept. They were necessary moments, ones that offered no respite but provided him with enough energy to keep going.

His body ached with exhaustion and his mind was unable to stop the endless thoughts that raced through it.

_What if by now he found out that she's not Anna? _

_What will he do? _

_What if he hurts her?_

Dimitri closed his eyes, pushing the thoughts away, knowing full well they'd return only seconds later.

_What if he hurts her? _

_What if…_

He pushed back the bile that threatened to rise in his throat.

The residence smelled like a stable. The jockeys and stable hands that walked through the halls after cleaning out stalls and riding horses made the smell a permanent fixture.

In an oddly comforting way, the smell reminded Dimitri of Vadsel and for a moment his mind stopped racing.

He walked to the end of the long corridor to Andrei's unit, spotting a young man before he had the chance to knock on the door.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Marick," the young man greeted him, as he walked by, pleased to see one of the best thoroughbred breeders on the continent walking the same hall way as him.

Dimitri couldn't find the energy for a greeting and settled on returning his smile. He was well known in the world of horse racing, a fact that he sometimes forgot.

He knocked on Andrei's door, grateful that the young jockey in the hallway didn't try to make small talk with him.

"_Come in!"_

Dimitri entered the tiny living space, only to see Andrei's back turned to him. His son was seated at a desk, headphones covered his ears.

Dimitri almost tripped over a heap of clothes that lay on the floor and covered virtually every inch of free space. He picked them up in one swoop and threw the clothes on the bed, marvelling at how anyone could live in such cramped quarters.

To say the room was small would have been an understatement. Next to the cot sized bed, there was barely enough room for a person to walk by sideways without touching the wall on the other side. At the far end, next to the window, stood a desk and a chair. It was a spindly chair that couldn't be pulled back or it would have hit the bed behind it. Instead, one literally had to squeeze into it, as Andrei did now.

'At least no one will accuse anyone of favouritism,' Dimitri thought, surprised that Andrei had never pestered him for bigger accommodations. He wasn't usually shy when it came to telling him what he didn't like.

"_I said I cannot go to the pub with you,"_ Andrei announced, not bothering to turn around or to take the headphones off his head. He said the words so loud it made Dimitri wince.

Dimitri vaguely remembered Alex buying the Ipod for Andrei.

They were at Gatwick, waiting for a delayed flight, when Alex had taken off, into a computer store while Dimitri pondered gentler times. Times when airports were just that. A place for the take-off and landing of aircraft, rather than the mini-malls they were today. Alex returned minutes later with a package in hand.

"_What's that?" he had asked._

"_An Ipod." _

"_You don't like the cassette player at Vadsel?" _

"_Funny," she laughed. "It's for Andrei. You know, for when he's at Epsom." _

"_He said he wanted an Ipod?" _

"_No…he didn't ask for one."_

"_You think he wants one?" _

_She'd been amused. "Darling, he's sixteen. Of course he wants one." _

Everything and anything could bring back a memory. No matter what it was. A scent. A song. An image as simple as Andrei's headphones.

"You're right. You can't go to the pub. Because, for starters, you're not old enough to drink," Dimitri replied, pulling the headphones off Andrei's head, forcing the memory from his mind. When Alex first presented Andrei with the Ipod Dimitri had a brief vision of his son discovering the gentle rapture of a Rachmaninov concerto or the timeless, delicate joys of a Mozart sonata.

Instead he soon found out that Andrei didn't listen to music. Instead he listened to noise. Incessant, pulsating throbs of pounding drums coupled with incomprehensible lyrics screeched by singers that sounded like they were in pain.

'I could record a CD of construction noise and give it to him for his next birthday. He'd probably love it,' Dimitri thought, cringing as he watched Andrei turn around in shock, shutting off the music player when he recognized him.

"Dimitri!" Andrei grinned, his grey eyes delighted at the surprise visit. "You came here…why you did not phone me?"

"I wasn't sure whether I'd make it here today."

"It is good that you are here," he declared, an idea suddenly springing into his mind. "I need to talk to Alex. I have a math test tomorrow and I want to telephone her for four days now. Four days, I try for _four days_…no answer!" He said the last words as though he wanted Dimitri to feel his frustration. "It is strange," he added. "Because every day she is always telephoning me."

Dimitri said nothing in return.

"I need help," Andrei repeated, pointing to the textbook in front of him. "I understand nothing in here." He made a zero sign with his fingers to emphasize his point. "_Nothing_!"

Andrei paused, allowing him to take a good look at Dimitri. Andrei frowned. "You look terrible," he told him in response to what he saw.

"I know."

Andrei's grey eyes narrowed, laced with sudden concern. "Dimitri, are you sick?"

"No…I'm tired, yes. But not sick."

He could see Andrei's clever mind working to try and figure out his dishevelled appearance, before Dimitri had a chance to explain it.

"Alex is okay?" Andrei asked cautiously, as though sensing there could be only one reason he would look the way he did.

Dimitri sat down on the bed, carefully choosing his words. "Something happened, Andrei. It's why I came here today. There's something I need to tell you."

_Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of the Congo, Africa_

_Central African Headquarters of the World Security Bureau _

_-_

"It's been a week," Sandrine repeated. "You haven't heard from him in a week! I'm getting worried."

Clive Sampson yawned. If Sandrine Mutanga wasn't so damn captivating he would have told her to get lost already. But she was. Stunning. Absolutely stunning.

Sampson had three women he visited on a regular basis and the most beautiful of the three, a tall, Sudanese goddess with skin so dark it was almost black, never failed to remind him of Sandrine.

There was a nubile, timeless grace about her that no white woman could hope to possess. Each time he saw her, Sampson wanted to run his hands along those smooth, dark thighs.

"Did you hear a word I said?" she repeated, her dark eyes angry now.

Sampson wondered what kind of underwear she wore.

"There has to be a way you can get in touch with Robert."

Sampson wanted to roll his eyes. How was it that his delicious thoughts had to be interrupted with images of one of his least favourite agents? He half wished that Scorpio wouldn't come back alive. It might mean the loss of a remarkable field agent and a considerable asset for the Bureau, but it would also be one less thorn in his side. Maybe once she forgot about the foul-mouthed Australian, Sandrine Mutanga would show_ him _a little interest.

Sampson licked his lips at the thought. "Agent Saunders is on a very private mission. He doesn't report back to me." Not this time anyway.

"There has to be a way to track him," Sandrine persisted.

"Neither you nor I are going to waste the Bureau's time tracking a man who's going to return when he's good and ready, and not before."

"He might be in trouble!"

Sampson chuckled. "You think? Why? Because he foolishly chose to go after one of the Bureau's most wanted all by himself?"

He watched as she bit her tongue, holding in the anger that was etched all over her pretty face.

"I'll do it on my own time," she said coldly. "Please…help me find him."

Sampson smiled. The pleading in her voice was a rather interesting development. He knew she had slept with Scorpio. _That_ tidbit had travelled through the office rumour mill a long time ago. It was old news. What Sampson didn't know before today was that she loved him.

"I suppose if you choose to waste your spare time trying to find someone who doesn't want to be found, that's your choice, isn't it? I could give you the little information I have…"

Sampson could feel the relief that washed over her. It was so palpable he wanted to laugh. He literally held Sandrine Mutanga in the palm of his hand.

He stood up from his desk and pulled open a filing cabinet drawer, taking out a manila folder.

He watched Sandrine observe him; desperate for any crumb he was willing to give her.

Sampson moved towards her, folder in hand. Sandrine was about to take it from him, but Sampson held on to it tightly.

"Not yet…" he whispered.

Sandrine gave him a puzzled look.

"If you go through these papers, you'll find the Bureau credit card number I gave Scorpio. You can run a trace on it and track him that way," Sampson explained.

"I said I won't do it on Bureau time," Sandrine promised him.

"Oh, I know you won't. Before I give it to you though, there's something I noticed…"

"What?"

Sampson ran a curious finger along the neckline of her bright red blouse, pleased to see that her skin felt as satiny smooth as he imagined it would.

He watched as she blushed a crimson red. "This button," he said softly taking the lowest closed button into his fingers and undoing it, revealing her crème coloured bra in the process. "It's a travesty to close it."

Sandrine raised a hand to push him away, but stopped as soon as she saw his look of warning.

It was only fair, Sampson thought running his fingers along the lace edges of her bra. In this day and age you didn't get something for nothing. Even beautiful, naïve Sandrine understood as much.

He sighed at the sheer softness of her flesh allowing himself several long moments to enjoy it, rubbing his warm hand against it.

"Here," he said, finally handing her the folder, his breathing heavy now. "Now you can go find your boyfriend."

_Alexei Estate, north of Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Jan Holstrom, looked at the Kiprensky, for the umpteenth time and wondered how he could have missed that tiniest of details.

The woman in the portrait wore an amethyst ring and during his first few viewings Jan thought there was something odd about the ring, but now it all made sense. To reflect the sunlight in the painter's studio, Kiprensky had given the bulbous ring its own shadow, reflected in the subtlest of black hues on the woman's pale finger.

'A brilliant detail of unprecedented accuracy in Russian oils,' Jan thought with a smile, proud of himself for having noticed it.

He barely noticed Cesar Faison enter the room.

"I'm glad someone in this house appreciates the Kiprensky," Faison said to him, a trace of annoyance in his voice.

"It's a masterpiece," Jan agreed, wiping the smile off his face. "The painting allows for close scrutiny. In fact, it begs for it. Like a code that wants to be deciphered."

Faison looked at him askance, making Jan blush. He knew his boss humoured his deep love of art; Faison even went so far as to partly share it. Unlike many businessmen, who bought great works of art not for what they were but for their monetary value, Cesar Faison appreciated the craftsmanship that went into a masterpiece such as the Kiprensky. Yet he too would never fully understand Jan's obsession with details. No one ever did. Nor would Faison appreciate him waxing poetic about an artist's uncanny ability to capture light.

Cesar Faison was a visionary not an analyst. He saw things in grand schemes, and planned his life accordingly. When on a hunt, he would stalk his prey for months, _years _even, with the patience of Job, envisioning its capture just as he envisioned the inevitable unravelling of his plans.

The thinker and the accountant. Perhaps that was why they fused together so well. Cesar Faison and Jan Holstrom. Because they were two polar opposites, needing each other to function as a whole.

'For how much longer?' Jan pondered grimly. 'How much longer until Robert arrives? And ends it all.'

"I thought Anna was an art connoisseur as well?" Jan asked, pushing the other thought from his mind.

"She was," Faison admitted, then correcting himself. "She _is_. I'm sure she's noticed the Kiprenskys, the Gzhel porcelain, the icon above the fireplace and of course the Faberge on the wall unit."

Jan nodded. Even an amateur art lover would have taken note of the Faberge egg that sat inside an impenetrable glass casing on the antique wall unit. To say it was spectacular would have been a massive understatement. Only two such eggs were commissioned to Tsar Nicholas during his reign. One for his mother, the Dowager Empress, Maria, the other for his wife, Alexandra.

Putting a price tag on the Faberge was impossible. Unthinkable. Only fifty-six were produced between 1885 and 1917. And only ten of those remained in Russia. Or so the history books said.

In fact, _eleven_ were in Russia.

The one that sat in the Kremlin Armoury in Moscow, the very egg commissioned for Alexandra, wife of Tsar Nicholas, was, in reality, an exquisite, impeccable fake. A perfect copy of the one Jan stopped to admire every morning after breakfast at Alexei Estate.

"Definitely," Jan nodded in agreement, "She _had_ to have taken note of the Faberge egg. It's not just a work of art. It's a priceless treasure."

Faison frowned. "I know she has. But she pretends not to notice. Because she knows I put them here for her, so she pretends like she couldn't care less." He managed a smile, "It's a very Anna Devane thing to do."

"Right," Jan narrowed his brows, hoping his expression looked vaguely understanding. Truthfully, he couldn't be bothered to try and understand the unpredictability of the opposite sex nor the complexities of love. Neither of them were worth the infinite trouble they caused. Cesar Faison and Anna Devane were stellar examples of _that_ fact.

Jan had to make an effort to tear his eyes away from the Kiprensky, trying to remember what it was that he wanted to say to his boss earlier. Something that had struck him as odd.

"There's something I thought was strange a couple of days ago," he started, remembering what he wanted to say. "About Anna."

"What?"

"When she first saw me, here at the estate. She didn't recognize me."

Faison didn't understand. "Why would she recognize you?"

"Almost a year ago, when she was pregnant. You remember we were tailing her, and you asked me to check on her, because she looked like she was sick. She was sitting down on a park bench."

"Ah yes," Faison smiled. At times Jan's verbosity irritated him, but at the same time his accountant's flawless memory astonished him. "Of course. I'd forgotten that."

"You've often told me she was gifted agent, at the top of her game."

"She was."

"The world's best field agents have a near photographic memory, a perfect recall for faces and places. Yet when Anna saw me here, at the estate, she didn't so much as bat an eye. It was as though she had absolutely no recollection of our encounter that day in the park."

Faison shrugged his shoulders, contemplating what Jan was saying. "It is somewhat surprising…but Anna was ill that day. She wasn't herself. Besides, she hasn't been a spy for well over a decade. She's had amnesia. Sometimes old habits do die."

Jan nodded. "You're probably right." Yet there was something else that bothered him about her. Something he couldn't quite put a finger on. A detail that was escaping him.

Jan tried to think back to that day. He had been nervous then. Nervous at coming face to face with the woman who had consumed his boss for two decades.

"_Yes. I do speak English…unlike my French, it's pretty comprehensible." _

Jan remembered her amused relief that day in Paris, when she realized he spoke English and she wouldn't have to struggle in her haphazard French. She had a charming way of easing his nerves, of disarming him. She did it effortlessly.

He also remembered her clever eyes trying to figure him out in spite of her obvious nausea. Trying to ascertain why a complete stranger, a _Parisian _stranger of all people, would be worried about her well-being.

'Old habits _don't_ die,' Jan thought to himself. She had been as alert and suspicious as any ex-operative would have been. And yet here at the estate she was…

Again he couldn't put a finger on it. '_Different_,' he decided. 'There's something _different_ about her that I can't explain.' He knew it would come to him eventually.

"I want you to go back to Paris tomorrow," Faison announced. "I need someone there to take care of business."

Jan nodded. "Of course. Whatever you wish."

"I've arranged a first class flight from Moscow tomorrow night. In three days I have a meeting scheduled with Olaf Kruibeke in Antwerp. I told him you would be filling in for me."

Jan cringed. Kruibeke was a Belgian mobster who, through luck and good timing rather than skill, was rapidly gaining a reputation as one of the biggest importers of conflict diamonds on the continent. He was also a coarse, unpleasant man utterly devoid of social graces. Jan loathed him.

"Would it be alright if I left tonight, instead of tomorrow?" Jan asked him.

Faison smiled. "The pace of rural life is getting to you already?"

Jan smiled. "Alexei Estate is beautiful, I could easily spend a month here. But there is an exhibit in Rome I'd like to see. Early 20th century Murano glass."

"As long as you're in Paris by tomorrow night," Faison shrugged his shoulders with indifference. "I've set up the office so that I can do almost everything from here."

Jan had no doubt he did. He had glimpsed into Faison's private office yesterday. Equipped with satellite links and a computer system that most corporate CEOs would envy, Faison's office was a modern marvel inside a century old estate. Aside from the occasional meeting that demanded his presence, Faison would be able to run his entire operation from Alexei Estate, while lavishing every free moment he had on Anna.

Jan knew that Faison would also find a way to work his proximity to Moscow, a thriving centre of organized crime and corruption, to his advantage. His already extensive connections with the Russian underworld would expand even further.

"I need my contacts to know we haven't disappeared from the European map. Your presence in Paris is necessary to let them know it's business as usual."

"I understand." Jan lied about his reason for wanting to stop in Rome for a day. It wasn't the Murano glass exhibit he had wanted to see, although it _was_ taking place at the Borghese Gallery.

Jan wanted to see the _Cappella Sistina_.

Michelangelo's greatest creation, the Sistine Chapel, was something he had held off seeing, wanting to savour the anticipation of the visit for as long as possible.

But if he didn't see it soon, it might be too late. He might never see it.

Robert Scorpio would arrive at Alexei Estate any day now. Whether alone or with an army of WSB agents, Jan had no idea. It didn't matter.

There would be a show of force. A final confrontation. One which he was certain Faison would win.

'And if Faison discovers I betrayed him, he _will_ kill me.'

Jan would flee. The millions he had made selling Scorpio's diamonds would gain him some time. But not enough, for he knew he would rather use his fortune for the things he loved most, ignoring his own security if need be. He would purchase some of the most beautiful paintings he had seen. He would finally _own_ them.

At the same time, Jan knew that Faison was patient. He would never forgive nor forget.

Eventually, Faison _would_ find him.

Jan eyed his boss as he poured himself a cognac from the crystal carafe, a shiver running down his spine. Faison would not only hunt him down and kill him.

He would enjoy the pursuit.

_Outside, On the grounds of Alexei Estate_

_-_

Alex rested her arms over the white corral fence that surrounded the horse pen, watching the chocolate coloured stallion inside. It looked like a Shagya to her. Not a thoroughbred, but, according to most European riders and breeders, it was the next best thing.

A native of breed of Hungary, Shagyas were once ridden by Magyar warriors in battle and its horses were known to this day for their toughness and endurance. No longer needed for war, the horses were now used for pleasure riding, dressage, jumping and hunting.

Alex wanted nothing more than to saddle one of the dozen or so Shagyas and Arabians on the estate. It would give her a sense of freedom and mobility. It would also allow her to explore the full expanse of the property. Most of all, it would calm her. Riding always did. Often, during times when she wanted nothing more than to jump out of her skin, she'd climb onto the back of a horse and a familiar sense of comfort flooded her.

Even in times when she no longer knew who she was, she knew she belonged on the back of a horse.

She smiled when she saw the stallion stare in her direction, twisting its neck in indignation at her nosiness. "Oh come on…you like being watched. Don't pretend you don't."

Judging from the animals and the immaculate set up of the stables and grounds, Alex deduced that Cesar Faison knew something about horses. And each time she had an urge to saddle on of the horses, Alex thought back to the countless times she had tried to invite her sister to come riding with her at Vadsel only to be refused each and every time.

"_Riding? You're kidding right? I've just had a little girl. Don't you want her to have a mother around when she grows up?" _

"_We've got some incredibly gentle riding horses at Vadsel," Alex remembered coaxing her sister, wanting to share with her the beauty of the place she now called home. Knowing she would love it as much as Robin did. "Besides, you told me you used to ride, long ago." _

_Anna had laughed. "That was before the amnesia. I'm sure I've forgotten. Your gentle horses will pick up on that fact the minute I sit on their backs."_

_Alex remembered grinning on the other end. Her little sister had a way of doing that. Of making her smile. "Oh come on, Anna… it's like riding a bicycle once you know how, you never forget."_

Now Alex wondered just how good or how poor her sister's riding skills were. Whether her banter on the phone that day had been false modesty. Or not. And did Faison know?

One thing Alex did know was that riding came as naturally to her as breathing and pretending she couldn't remember how would be more difficult than resisting the urge to saddle one of the Shagyas. And whether or not Faison knew of Anna's riding skills or lack thereof, he had to know that Anna's sister was in the business of breeding thoroughbreds.

If she had learned nothing else this week it was that Cesar Faison was meticulous to a fault.

As promised, he had allowed her to call the Hopital St. Michel in Paris to check on Leah's condition.

"Don't try anything," he had warned her. "The phone is completely untraceable, better than iridium satellite technology. Not that a hospital switchboard is ideal for tracing calls."

Alex had let him ramble. Anything related to spyware sounded Greek to her, even though it wouldn't have to her sister.

"Still I presume your dear friend, Sean, would have made attempts to put some sort of tracing mechanism on the hospital switchboard. He would have known you would insist on finding out about your daughter's well-being."

"He _will_ find me," Alex had taunted him.

Faison had smiled. "No he won't. He's in a different league than you or I. Sean Donely is good at what he does, but he won't… how do they say it in America? '_Think outside the_ _box'?_"

"He's not a criminal like you, is what you're saying."

Faison had handed her the phone, unperturbed by her verbal attacks. "I'm letting you make this call to show you I'm not a monster."

"Right."

"Here…"

She had grasped the phone, holding it tightly. She was on speakerphone, allowing him to hear every word on the other end.

"I'm calling about a patient there, Leah Devane." It was a hospital in Paris. Anna would have asked in French. Alex prayed that Faison wouldn't question the fact that she didn't. That he would chalk it up to a nervous slip and blame it on her anxiousness to hear about her daughter.

"Leah Devane…_un moment, sil vous plait_."

Silence.

"_Elle n'est plus ici, a Saint Michel."_

Silence again as Alex pretended she knew what the woman had told her.

"Leah Devane, she is going home two days ago," the operator had finally explained in broken English.

Relief washed over Alex. At least it wasn't all for nothing.

"She was discharged?"

"Yes, she…" _Click._

"_Damn you!"_ Alex had glared at Faison, trembling with rage. She had blown her only chance. He had cut her off before she had a chance to give them a single clue. _"I need_ _to know if she's okay."_ Anna would have been smarter. She would have found a way to leave a clue.

"They don't discharge sick infants," Faison reminded her.

Tears welled up in her eyes, knowing that she had messed up her one opportunity to save herself.

"I'm sorry, my love." Faison said the words as thought he truly meant them. It made Alex shudder. "We both know I couldn't let you say anything else."

"_Please_…" she had pleaded. "I _need_ to know more. She's my baby."

His face had taken on a pained expression, as though hating what he just did. "I'm so sorry, Anna. But I need you to believe me when I say I would never hurt your little girl. Leah is fine. I gave you the proof you wanted. She was discharged from the hospital two days ago."

"You bastard," Alex had cursed, a feeling of helplessness washing over her. _Her one phone call._ _Wasted _

She had turned her back on him that day, hating the thought of spending another moment looking at his upset expression. Leaving him behind as she ran out of the room.

"Anna!"

He had called after her. Then he ran after her, down the creaky, age-old corridors of the estate. Up the spiral staircase, to the room where she stayed.

"_Anna!" _

But she had slammed a door in his face then and thankfully he hadn't persisted.

If nothing else Alex was grateful that Cesar Faison hadn't pushed his presence on her. That he knew Anna well enough to know if he did, he would get the opposite desired effect.

For the most part, Cesar Faison kept his distance. Patiently waiting for her to make her first move. Knowing that time was on his side.

Sometimes she spotted him from the corner of her eye, watching her as she explored the interior of the estate, making her way through every room. From the dark, damp wine cellar to the attic where cobwebs spanned the length of the slanted ceilings, and the suffocating library with its massive leather chairs and endless shelves of dust-covered books. Alex forced herself to become familiar with every square foot of her stately prison.

Only three rooms had locked doors that she couldn't access.

'His bedroom and office,' she assumed, and the third room was probably his assistant's room. Faison's assistant was a tall, spindly Swede. He wore wire-rimmed glasses and had introduced himself as Jan. He seemed to spend most of his day in the study, rarely venturing out into the sunshine. Sometimes Alex caught him staring at a painting for minutes at a time, oblivious to everything around him.

Often, when Alex sat down in one of the thick, leather chairs, she spotted Faison doing the same, picking up a newspaper and pretending to read it, while she felt his eyes boring through the back of the chair. It was the only time she managed to sleep this past week, when she let her eyes close with exhaustion and napped while sinking tiredly into the deep, soft chairs.

The one time Alex had fallen asleep in the huge four-poster bed that was in her bedroom, she'd awoken again moments later, in a cold sweat, swearing she could not only see but also hear Charlotte breathing down her neck, holding a needle in her hand.

'_Stop fighting me, Sasha. Stop pretending that you're something you're not.'_

'_I'm not who you want me to be, Mum. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…but please don't do this…' _

'_Don't be sorry, darling. Relax. All I want is for you to become the daughter I need you to be.'_

'_Mum…stop it. It hurts…'_

'_Anna. Your name is Anna now.' _

Images of Brynn Wydd that she thought she'd buried forever, now came back with a ferocity that took her breath away.

'_Stop pretending you're something you're not.'_

'If I don't sleep, I can't dream…' she thought, fully aware of the absurdity of that notion. At Vadsel, with Dimitri, she could handle her demons, no matter how frightening they were. Sometimes Dimitri even insisted that it was the reason they confronted her now, so many years after Brynn Wydd. Because he could help her fight them now. Because she was strong enough now.

'It's you who gives me so much strength…' Without it, without _him_, the nightmares suddenly, inexplicably gained the upper hand, relishing in their newfound power over her. 'I don't know if I can stand them without you…'

'As long as I don't sleep,' she repeated, staring at the stallion in front of her, bringing her back to the present. She closed her eyes and imagined Andrei riding him, smiling at her, his braces glistening in the sun.

"I brought you some fruit," a voice announced stirring Alex from her thoughts.

Alex hadn't heard the blonde woman approach. "I'm not hungry," she answered. It seemed no matter where she went the blonde woman, Olga, was never far behind. Although she'd introduced herself as a housekeeper and, by all accounts, everything the woman did suggested as much, Alex also didn't doubt that Faison asked Olga to keep an eye on her.

"You did not have breakfast," Olga announced, holding out a plate of freshly washed berries. "You must be hungry."

"I said, '_No thanks_,'" Alex told her, turning around. She refused partly because doing so gave her a minimal amount of control, but mostly because she truly had no appetite.

"They are very sweet," Olga insisted, holding a hand over her eyes to shade herself from the unrelenting mid-day sun. .

Alex frowned, annoyed. The housekeeper was an odd woman, sullen one moment, strangely pleasant the next.

"_You_ eat them then, if they're so good," she told her.

Now it was the Russian woman who frowned. "He will ask me why, if you don't eat anything."

"Tell Faison it's because I'm not hungry. That maybe if he let me go, I'd get my appetite back."

The woman's frown turned into a scowl. "It is very beautiful here…I do not understand why you are so unhappy here."

The expression on Alex's face softened, a small part of her yearning for someone, for _anyone_, to confide in. Even this odd woman she couldn't quite decipher. "It _is_ beautiful here," she admitted. "But I'm not here of my own free will. I have a little girl I miss terribly…" Her mind drifted not to Leah but to Dimitri, thinking she'd give the world to feel his arms around her again.

"He loves you," the woman replied, her wide, Slavic features softening in response. "He loves you very much."

What she saw in the other woman's face made Alex's eyes widen in surprise.

Envy.

"No," Alex shook her head sadly. "He doesn't. He thinks he does…but _this_, holding me a prisoner here. This isn't love."

The scowl returned to the woman's face. "He loves you and you keep pushing him away. Cesar Faison is a good man. _A kind man_."

Alex eyed the woman, not sure what to make of her. Obviously she was loyal to Faison, perhaps even in love with him. "You're wrong."

Olga set the bowl of fruits down on the grassy ground, ignoring what Alex said. "I will tell him I gave you these, that is all I can do."

Alex tiredly turned her attention back to the stallion, sensing she wasn't going to change Olga's perception of her boss. Alex couldn't be bothered to make the futile efforts.

Neither woman heard the approaching footsteps on the soft earth.

"Are you being difficult for Olga too?" a voice asked.

Alex turned around to see Cesar Faison observing both of them, his stare drifting to the bowl of fruits that sat on the ground. He said something in Russian that made the woman blush with gratitude. Olga said something to him in return, before slowly making her way back to the estate.

"What did you do?" Alex asked. "Brainwash her?"

Faison wore a simple, white linen shirt and black pants with a polished leather belt that emphasized a body that was slim yet wiry and athletic. His long, grey-brown hair was tied into a neat ponytail.

"Olga used to work as a prostitute in a Moscow brothel," he explained. "The day I met her one of her eyes had closed shut because she had been beaten by her employer." Faison stared out at the same horse that had captured Alex's attention, "There was something about the way Olga looked at me that night. Like a wild animal. There was a pride beneath her fear and anger that fascinated me. I bought her freedom that day and brought her to Alexei Estate to work for me."

Alex said nothing, watching as he smiled and leaned against the corral fence alongside her.

"Olga is a very good cook. You would know if you started enjoying her meals instead of refusing them."

"Sorry if I don't feel like playing houseguest."

Faison sighed. "I've given you both time and space this week, Anna. Because I knew you needed it to take the edge off your anger. I've indulged your little tantrums. But enough is enough. I didn't bring you here to look at you the way I look at the Faberge that sits on the wall unit."

"There's a method to the madness then."

"You're smart woman. You need to be challenged, _stimulated_…" He lingered on the last word, his eyes boring into her again, just as they did on the bridge, the deep lines on his face shockingly visible in the mid-day sun. "Just as I do."

"And you think you're the one to do it?" Alex wondered whether the boldness came easily now because she wasn't herself. Because her sister was fearless and she had no choice but to be fearless too.

"Tomorrow we're going to go riding. There's something I want to show you."

Alex felt herself tense. "No thanks."

Faison's smile didn't fade. "It wasn't a suggestion."

Alex shivered, in spite of the warmth outside, "Really? So are you going to handcuff me to a horse?"

This time he laughed. "No, my love. But starting tomorrow I'm going to force you to finally begin acknowledging everything you've denied all these years."

There was no witty comeback this time, as Alex hugged herself, chilled.

"Starting tomorrow," he said softly. "I'm going to help you to stop fighting me. To stop fighting what we both know is inevitable."


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

_Alexei Estate, north of Moscow, Russia_

_-_

"_I want you to get help." _

_Alex stared at him. "I don't understand." _

_His usually gentle features were harsh. Perturbed._

"_Yesterday. You don't remember yesterday, do you?" _

_Alex nodded without fully understanding. Of course she remembered yesterday. It was only 24 hours ago. Why wouldn't she?_

_Didn't she?_

"_I…" _

"_You insisted you were Anna."_

_She shook her head, widening her eyes in denial. He was joking. Had to be. _

"_No, I didn't." She laughed. It was ludicrous. "Why in the world would I?" _

_He sat down next to her, putting a tender hand on her shoulder. "You insisted your name was Anna. You said you couldn't lecture at the University because you had no idea what to say. You said you were a spy, not a doctor." _

"_No…that's not true." Why would he say that? "Dimitri, why are you saying these things?" _

"_There are periods of time, when you're not yourself. You say things…and do things. Then you don't remember." _

"_No." It wasn't funny anymore. It was a lie. _

"_I want you to see a psychiatrist." _

"_No…I won't. Because this… this isn't true." _

_He looked at her. First with concern, then with something she'd never seen in his eyes before. Pity. Repulsion. _

"_I fell in love with your mind, Alex…and now." _

"_I'm not losing my mind…Dimitri. I love you. I would never…" He'd always been the only one who knew. Who understood and loved her anyway. _

_S__eeing a shrink would mean he was right. That he was saying the truth. And she knew he wasn't._

"_I won't…" she repeated. Scared. _

_He backed away from her. "If you won't, I don't know how we can survive. You're not the woman I fell in love with." _

_She was crying now. What he was saying still made no sense. But now it hurt. _

"_Darling, it's me. Alex…" _

"_No. Not anymore." _

_She wanted to throw her arms around him. She couldn't remember when she last felt such an urgent need to hold him. _

_He brushed them off, making his way out of the room. _

"_Dimitri, don't go please…" _

"_I'll come back when you seek help. When you admit that you've lost your mind."_

_Tears fell down her cheek. "No…" _

_She needed him. God, how was it possible to need him so much? _

_The door slammed shut. The room darkened and the walls started closing in on her. _

_He was gone. _

_Charlotte stood in his place, shaking her head sadly._

"_Oh Sasha, you didn't think it would last, did you?" _

_How did her mother get here?_

"_He loves me, Mum."_

"_No_. _He loved the woman he thought you were." Her mother moved to comfort her. "The brilliant doctor, not the lost, pathetic creature you really are."_

"_He knew…" Alex started. "He always knew and it didn't stop him from loving me." _

"_He thought you were cured, but you and I both know better. You'll never really be fine, will you Sasha?" _

"_Go away!" _

"_You were always weak. Confused. A man like Dimitri Marick couldn't survive with a woman like that. Married to a little girl who doesn't even know who she is?" __Charlotte smiled, holding out her hand. "You poor thing…come back home to me." _

_The thought was unfathomable. "No!" _

"_Anna, let me help you…" _

"_Stop it! My name is Alex!"_

"Anna?"

"No!"

_Why wouldn't they stop calling her that?_

Charlotte had disappeared. The room no longer threatened to close in on her. To the contrary, the huge four-poster bed dwarfed her like an insect inside a giant flytrap.

"Anna?"

Alex groaned, shaking off the last remnants of the nightmare.

"_Please _stop calling me tha…"

She stopped herself in mid-sentence. The woman who stood in front of her now wasn't Charlotte. It was Olga, the blonde housekeeper.

"Are you alright?" she asked, concerned. "I will ask him to come to you."

Alex pushed herself off the bed, discovering that she was fully dressed.

"No…don't," she told Olga. "Please…don't tell Faison to come here."

"You are not well."

"I just had a bad dream, that's all." Alex mustered a lopsided smile. "Don't make it worse by bringing him here."

Olga gave her an oddly compassionate look. "If that is your wish, Anna." She gestured towards a food-laden tray. "I bring you breakfast. Cesar told me you it is important that you eat this morning. He wants you to go with him. On the horses."

Alex nodded. Anything to get Olga to leave.

"I will. Thank you."

The blonde woman left the room without looking back, closing the door behind her.

'Great,' Alex thought. 'You might not bring him here, but you will tell him what you saw.'

Alex clasped her hands together in an effort to stop them from shaking and as she moved across the room she caught a reflection of herself in the antique mirror.

Her hair was a mess, and the clothes she'd worn yesterday to explore the estate were rumpled and dirty. Her mind drifted back to yesterday afternoon, after Faison had seen her watching the chocolate coloured stallion. She remembered the unease she couldn't shake, even after he'd left her alone.

After that encounter she'd started walking, around the boundary of the estate. Along a barbed wire fence that couldn't possibly run forever.

Taking along only a flashlight and a bottle of water, Alex had walked for hours, along the fence. It made her aware of how unfathomably large Faison's property was. Once she left the clearing near the estate, the fence ran through forested areas, along a fast flowing stream and then just as she thought the forest would never end she found another grassy clearing. Towering poplar, spruce and birch trees suddenly gave way to wide open space flooded with sunlight.

'I must have walked at least fifteen… twenty kilometres,' she thought back, as her aching muscles reminded her this morning that. 'And even so, I didn't circumvent the property…'

Long after her water bottle had emptied, a thick heavy darkness had blanketed everything in sight and she had to turn on the flashlight just to see her hands in front of her face.

Alex didn't fear the darkness or the occasional rustling sounds that came from the forest. 'Neither would Anna,' she thought, remembering the isolated log cabin in northern Ontario where she had first met her sister.

In fact, the only sound that did frighten her was that of approaching hoof beats in the darkness, followed by a light that was stronger and brighter than that of her flashlight.

Three horses had surrounded her. Faison and two other men she had never seen before. 'Security guards,' she'd speculated.

"You were starting to worry me," he had told her, shining the flashlight directly at her. Blinding her. "I expected you to try and find a way out, but I thought you were smarter than to try it in the middle of the night."

"Maybe you're overestimating me," she'd shot back.

Faison hadn't bothered to dismount his horse, holding out a hand to her instead. "It's a long way to the nearest settlement," he told her. "Even if you _could_ get out."

She had glared at him.

He continued holding out his arm. "It's going to get cold overnight." He had looked at her as one would have an errant child. "You're not dressed for it. And I see you didn't bother to take along any supplies."

'I didn't think I was exploring the world's largest estate,' she had thought glumly. Who could have fathomed the sheer immensity of Alexei estate?

Faison was right. She _was_ cold, not to mention hungry and thirsty. And exhausted.

"If you don't want a ride back with me, we can stay here all night. You, me, and my two guards, Sergei and Piotr," he had offered, with a trace of a smile. "I brought you a jacket and sleeping bag in case you decided to play _that _game."

She had hated the mild look of amusement on his face. At least at the estate there was a good chance he would stay out of her immediate line of vision.

Reluctantly, Alex held out her arm and allowed him to pull her up onto the stallion.

Although the darkness slowed them down, Faison rode with surprising speed, commanding the horse's every movement rather than trusting its instincts. Technically he was a flawless rider, but he rode the horse as though it was a machine incapable of thought.

'Dimitri would say you try too hard,' she'd thought, imagining how unimpressed her husband would have been with Faison's riding skills.

It had been her last thought before they returned to the estate and she staggered tiredly to her room, too exhausted to do anything but quench her thirst with the large jug of water that stood on her bedside table. Her resolution to avoid sleep was crushed only seconds after she sank into the four-poster bed.

'If you sleep, you dream…' she thought morbidly, bringing her mind back to the present. 'It's inevitable here.'

Her hands were still shaking when she caught another glimpse of herself in the mirror, unnerved by the image that stared back her.

It was like looking at Anna. The bold layers and the thick blonde highlights of her new haircut still felt foreign to her. Seeing it made her want to slip out of her skin to shake off the invisible weight pressing down on her.

'A shower,' she thought, throwing off the dirty clothes she wore. Faison had brought her clothes which he'd purchased himself at a high end Moscow department store. Alex shuddered when she pictured him picking out the undergarments she wore.

Tears came out of nowhere, as she thought of Dimitri.

Back at Vadsel, she'd sometimes roll her eyes at his inability to keep his hands off her.

'_A little restraint would go a long way,' she'd tease. 'I'm British you know, I'm not sure I can handle all this affection.' _

_As expected, he'd laughed. 'I'll keep my hands off you, the day you make it easy for me.'_

'What I wouldn't give for your touch right now…I miss you so much, darling. I miss your confidence in me.'

Naked, she stepped into the shower, brushing back salty tears as they mingled with the scalding hot water that cascaded over her.

'Anna wouldn't cry,' she reminded herself, hating that she still couldn't stop her hands from shaking. Nor push the image of Charlotte taunting her, from her mind.

"_He loved the woman he thought you were. The brilliant doctor. Not the lost, pathetic creature you really are."_

'Anna wouldn't long for her husband and wait for him to rescue her.'

"_Anna was always the strong one. The one I wish I had instead of you." _

'Me too,' Alex thought, hating that the water couldn't wash her thoughts away. 'I wish you had taken the one you wanted, Mum. Almost as much as I wish I was her.'

'Anna wouldn't wait to be rescued,' Alex realized, closing her eyes, letting the water sting her face. 'Anna would find her own way out.'

_Epsom, England_

_-_

Andrei looked at his adoptive father in disbelief.

"This gangster…he kidnapped Alex, because he thinks she is Anna?"

Dimitri nodded. "It sounds crazy, I know."

"You say Alex, she did this for her sister? She knows what can happen to her?"

"She was aware of the risks, yes. But she also thought that the men who were watching her would protect her."

"And now? You do not know where she is?"

This time he shook his head. "No…I don't know." Dimitri sat on the edge of Andrei's cot-sized bed, pushing his flat palm down on the thin mattress, while Andrei remained in his desk chair, straddling it backwards, his arms wrapped around the chair's back so he could face Dimitri without turning the chair.

Andrei had hung on to every word he said, trying to understand that which Dimitri couldn't explain to himself, much less to someone else.

"But the police is going to find her?"

"No police," Dimitri explained. "If the police knows, the media will find out as well. Exposing her as Alex could be very dangerous for her."

"But if the police do not help you, how can you find her?"

"Anna and some of her associates are working on it and I've hired a handful of private investigators. I _will_ find her, Andrei…"

Andrei's face was paler now than when Dimitri entered the room, betraying how deeply the news affected him.

He jumped up from the chair. "I will help you too."

Dimitri stood up alongside him, raising his hand and gently pushing him back with it, "You can't help, Andrei."

"Of course I will help you! I will go with you when you go!"

"No. You're going to stay right here at Epsom. You're going to go through that math book and write that test tomorrow." Andrei was already failing his classes even though he knew he had to pass them to stay enrolled and train with Tempus Fugit. Dimitri knew he could use his clout to keep Andrei from getting expelled, but he didn't plan to.

On top of it, having Andrei in Paris would only complicate matters with Sean, Dan and Anna.

"Are you crazy?" Andrei demanded, incredulously.

"There's nothing you can do, if you come to Paris with me."

"Of course there is! I can help you…if I come with you it means you have two more hands and two more eyes that maybe can find Alex!"

Dimitri frowned, steeling himself. "You're not coming with me and that's final. You're going to stay here and try twice as hard to pass that damn math test, is that understood?"

"You are really crazy," he said angrily, tapping a finger against his temple to prove the point. Andrei pointed to the math book. "How can I try to understand this when Alex is missing? How can you say I cannot help you?"

"Because you _can't_."

"I'm coming…I am not staying here!"

This time Dimitri gave him a firmer push back down into his chair. "If you leave this dorm with me today, you're _not_ coming back. Do you understand that?"

Andrei narrowed his brows, uncomprehending, pushing Dimitri's hand off his chest.

Dimitri took a deep breath. He still wasn't used to this. Insolence. Hot-tempered stubbornness. 'Parenting,' he thought, correcting himself. He still wasn't used to parenting.

What he did know was that a young man's fears couldn't be given free reign. He needed discipline. Structure. Dimitri also knew that strength came from staying on one's path, even when circumstances made it next to impossible. It was what _his_ father would have forced him to do.

His father wouldn't have let him indulge his fears. If he had, Vadsel wouldn't have survived four decades of Communist rule.

"You cannot stop me…" Andrei threatened, taking a jacket out of his closet.

Dimitri gave him an angry glare. "You don't think I'm serious, do you? If you follow me to Paris…I'll take it to mean that you don't give a damn about racing. And I _will_ find someone else to race Tempus Fugit because that horse needs someone who's committed to him."

"I _am_ committed to him!" Andrei yelled back. "Alex gave him to _me! Y_ou cannot take him away from me!"

For the first time since he met him in that chaotic orphanage, Dimitri saw him cry.

"Then stay here and prove it," he said harshly. "Don't come running after me like a scared little boy. I thought you were a man now!"

"I want to help you…" Andrei said between sobs. "Please let me help you..."

Dimitri bit his lip. He might never have said as much, but Andrei loved Alex. Every reaction today was proof.

Dimitri could envision Alex furious at him for what he was about to do.

"_What the hell has gotten into you?"_ he could hear her angry voice in his head. _"He's upset. He needs love. Not this cold, military-style discipline."_

Alex would have taken him in her arms and held him. It was why Andrei loved her.

But Dimitri wasn't Alex.

"I said I don't need your help," he repeatedly coldly.

"Please…"

"If you want to race horses, you're going to stay here and pass that test. And look after Tempus."

Andrei glared at him, defeated at last. "I hate you."

The words stung him and Dimitri took another deep breath. Strength wasn't built on following whims. Andrei might not know that yet, but he would learn.

"I'll call you every day to let you know whether we've made any progress."

"You better!" Andrei threatened.

The comeback almost made Dimitri smile. _You are such an Andrassy._

"I love you," he said softly, hoping that somehow, in spite of it all, Andrei would know it was the truth.

To return the sentiment, Andrei threw a textbook at him.

"If I cannot help you…then get lost!"

When he closed the door behind him, Dimitri heard Andrei's angry voice from the other side.

"And you better find her!"

_Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of the Congo_

_-_

Sandrine scrunched the paper into an angry ball and threw it into a wastepaper basket.

"You think you are so clever," she fumed. "You forget that you were my teacher and that I was a good student."

From beneath her apartment she heard the sound of voices yelling in a mixture of French and Lingala. Something about a late payment for two bags of rice and flour.

Unlike Robert who lived in a bungalow provided by the WSB, in a gated neighbourhood, just outside the city's financial centre, Sandrine lived in an apartment above a store, in the congested middle of one Kinshasa's largest markets. Smells of fruits and spices permeated the air.

The apartment's walls were so flimsy; there were days when Sandrine wondered if they would still be here, standing, at the end of her workday. Yet in spite of her father's disapproval, she loved it. There was_ life_ here. Vibrant, chaotic and crazy life. It was Africa in a nutshell.

She got up from her computer to open the apartment's window and yell at the shopkeeper below.

"_Tais-toi, Mustafa!"_

'How am I supposed to concentrate like this?' she thought, irritated, forcing her glance back onto the computer screen, to the page she had just printed. Her computer sat on an olivewood table, next to a window that overlooked the tarps of the market stalls below.

A steady din of human voices, vehicle noise and animals yelping filtered into her room and were she not used to it, it would have made it nearly impossible to focus on her task at hand.

As Sampson suggested, she'd run a trace on Robert's credit card.

At first it seemed almost too simple. Sandrine saw three tickets purchased on a South African Airlines flight to Johannesburg.

'He went to South Africa…' she concluded.

Then she spent a good portion of her day sitting in the endless traffic on the road to Kinshasa's Nidjili Airport, knowing she would only be able to obtain a passenger flight manifest in person. Only to discover, once there, that it was a ruse. That the three tickets purchased for that flight had gone unused.

'You _knew_ I would try and find you,' she thought, eyeing a five thousand dollar cash withdrawal against the card. 'So you bought another three tickets…in cash.'

Unlike most other parts of the world, hard cash was still widely used in Africa and it was common practice to purchasing airline tickets with cash.

"It means there's no way I can find out where you are…unless I go over every flight manifest that left Ndjili airport last week. And that would take forever…_if_ you used your real name," she mumbled in frustration, only to discover two other large cash withdrawals on the credit card.

'You're going to do everything with cash. Untraceable cash,' she thought. 'I should have known you wouldn't make this easy, Robert.'

She had to find him.

A sense of dread and urgency had filled her since yesterday. 'It's been too long…' she thought. 'He should have been back by now.'

Sandrine stared out the open window at the market below.

"There has to be another way to find you…"

What would Robert do?

Her mind drifted back to the days spent in the unforgiving jungle, to the frustration of trying to track diamond smugglers for whom the terrain provided the prefect cover.

'_Don't give up so easily,' he had scolded her then. 'Just because the tracks on the ground are gone doesn't mean they've left no traces. Look up, Sandi. Look up and look around. Leaves, branches, everything that's been affected by human presence has the potential to leave a clue. Everything.' _

'Think, Sandrine…think.'

When the answer suddenly came to her it was so obvious, she wanted to hit herself for not thinking of it earlier.

She thought of the photos Robert had shown her when they were seated on a pier overlooking Lake Victoria. 'Anna works for Interpol…she lives with her daughter in Paris…someone else must be looking for her. Someone who might have a far better lead than I do.'

A smile crossed her lips, 'Instead of trying to find _you_, I should try and find others looking for _Anna_.'

'You may have made a deal to stay away from your wife and daughter.'

Sandrine's smile grew. 'But I didn't.'

_Near Alexei Estate, Russia_

_-_

Robert Scorpio was hidden behind a bush, less than a hundred metres from the fence and gate he was studying.

He raised his binoculars towards the property for the umpteenth time, frowning when he saw the sun above him. Another half an hour or so, and the sun would position itself to reflect the light of his binoculars. In other words, in less than a half hour he would take a lengthy break and return at dusk.

Robert had been here since sunrise. For the fifth day in a row.

The first two days he'd surveyed the estate by walking around it. Literally.

'For two days I walked next to _that_,' he thought, in disgust, eyeing the fence that was now etched in his memory. Sellers would label it as a high-security, non-electric, anti-scale fence. It was most likely made of various collapse resistant steel components.

Its top consisted of interlocking, rotating spikes with razor sharp edges. It wasn't particularly high, perhaps seven feet, yet its appearance created an instant psychological barrier. It _looked_ malevolent. Insurmountable.

'Exactly what the builders intended,' Robert thought. 'To deter people before they get any ideas.'

Given Cesar Faison's love of technology, Robert was surprised at simplicity of the fence. It was barbaric in an almost medieval way.

'Then again, it's not really meant to keep intruders out. It's meant to keep prisoners in."

'Not prisoners. _Anna,' _he corrected himself.

'It must have cost a fortune,' he thought after walking around its entire stretch. 'Miles and miles of steel-component, anti-scale fence. Barbed wire gone upscale.'

Scaling it wouldn't be that much of an obstacle. It was what would happen _after_ he was inside, that would present the real challenge.

The plan was simple. Enter the estate. Kill Faison and free Anna.

Yet cutting off the head of the monster meant facing its angry limbs first.

With closer examination, Robert discovered that the fence was not nearly as archaic as he had at first imagined. Infrared cameras were positioned directly below the spikes, at two hundred metre intervals, forcing him to keep a visible distance from while surveying it.

Several times he spotted armed men patrolling alongside it, either with dogs or on horseback.

Five days of observation had led him to deduct that there were twelve guards working in teams of four, in eight-hour shifts. It wasn't nearly enough men protect an estate this size, but it meant that once inside, if anything went wrong, all it took was a phone call or an alarm button, for Faison to summon at least four men, instantly outnumbering him and his two agents.

Robert pulled a pocket size camera out of his pocket to take yet another photo of the estate's main entrance.

His heart nearly stopped when he saw a door open and a woman exit.

_Anna? _

He'd seen her yesterday for the first time. She stood some distance from him, leaning against a corral fence, observing one of Faison's horses, and it had taken every ounce of willpower not to run towards her.

Anna.

For the first time in ten years, she was close enough for him to see her. He wanted to yell out to her and let her know he was here.

Alive.

_When all this is over, Anna, will you forgive me for the decision I made a decade ago? Will you understand? _

Robert felt relief when he saw that the woman leaving to walk to the chicken pen wasn't Anna but a heavy set, blonde woman.

'One of Faison's household staff,' he decided, seeing the apron she wore.

He glanced at his Breitling watch. 12:30. Time to get out of the sun's glare and take a break.

Taking a break meant walking back to the camp he'd set up an hour's walk from the estate. It was a fully collapsible camp, hidden in a bush near the same creek that ran through the grounds.

Given that the nearest settlement was miles away and that only one road lead to the estate, camping within walking distance of the estate was the only option for what he needed to do.

At the days' end, Robert lit a fire, put up his tent and pulled out a kettle to boil water from the creek, grateful for the mild temperature outside. Although he was getting impatient to return to the basic comforts of modern life, he knew he had enough vacuum-packed food to last him another week.

'I won't be here another week,' he thought. Four or five days at the most.

Robert had ordered the two WSB agents who accompanied him to Russia, to remain in Moscow and wait for his orders while obtaining the equipment he needed.

Staking out the estate alone was safer for all of them. Once he had a concise plan of action, Robert would summon them to provide him with the back-up he needed.

They would enter the estate at night, halfway between two infra-red camera locations and with the aid of a metal, wire-mesh blanket to cover fence's spikes, scaling it would be a minor effort. Once inside, the two guards near the entry gate would be immobilized first.

It would leave two other guards and Cesar Faison, unaccounted for.

'But it would also mean almost even odds,' Robert reminded himself. 'And don't count out Anna...'

His two agents in Moscow had already obtained a floor plan of the estate from the Imperial archives and although he could make his guesses, there was no way of pinpointing Cesar Faison or Anna to a particular room.

If he did find Anna first, he'd arm her and that would give him an instant ally. Or would it? _Is there a chance she would hesitate to kill Faison? _

After everything Faison had done to both of them, Robert doubted it, even as the thought plagued him. He had to take into account that Anna wasn't the same person she was a decade ago.

'It doesn't matter,' he thought, running a hand through his salt and pepper stubble, as he started the walk away from the estate. 'I _will_ kill him. Whether Anna agrees or not.'

It was why he had to do this alone, without the backing of any law enforcement of intelligence agency. This time there would be no prison terms from which Cesar Faison would be able to buy his freedom within months. Death was the only thing that would finally end it all. Faison had sealed his fate when he broke their deal.

Robert turned around and took a final glance at the estate behind him. 'In less than a week, it will all be over.'

In his mind, he saw Anna again, leaning against the white-washed fence on the grounds, and this time he stopped trying to push the image from his thoughts.

'Soon…' he thought, relishing in the notion of holding her in his arms again. After years of telling himself otherwise, he knew he wanted it so badly it was a physical ache.

"What then, luv?" he asked her aloud. "How do I leave you again after that? After you've been back in my arms?"

_Alexei Estate, Russia_

_-_

Cesar Faison was out of breath when he dismounted his horse. He led the animal to the creek. It was a beautiful spot, where the dense forest met the grassy expanse of the Russian steppe, separated by a clear blue ribbon of trickling water.

"You've become an excellent rider," he told her, rolling up the sleeves on his white shirt.

Alex ignored him, leading her own white stallion to the water, after dismounting. She'd pushed the horse harder than he was used to and was pleasantly surprised at the horse's will to keep going.

"Have you spent time with your sister?"

Alex raised an eyebrow, patting the horse's neck, thanking it for its effort.

"Your sister and her husband breed thoroughbred horses in Hungary, don't they?" Faison asked her, brushing dust off his stirrups. "Andrassy thoroughbreds are quite well known on European racetracks."

Alex nodded. "She does."

"The horse you're riding is one of only two Lipizaner horses at Alexei Estate. His name is _Schneefloeckli_."

"It's because of his colour," Faison explained, catching her puzzled look. "It means 'little snow flake' in Swiss-German dialect. It's a mouthful, isn't it? I kept the name because I bought him from a Swiss breeder. Schneefloeckli used to run steeplechase in Germany and Austria. Not exactly an Andrassy thoroughbred, but a very nice animal nonetheless. If you like him, he's yours."

"I should be impressed? Your little snowflake tires too easily."

"I take it your sister's gone riding with you," he observed, still catching his breath. "You ride like you've been practising."

Alex shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe I look better on horseback than you only because you're out of shape."

Faison sighed. "Just for one afternoon, can you resist the sarcasm?"

"If you let me go, you could spare yourself from it altogether." Alex turned towards him, realizing she too was breathless from the ride. They must have neared the end of the estate's borders. It couldn't possibly be much bigger.

Faison sat down near the soft banks of the creek, meeting her eyes. "I could let you go, couldn't I?"

Alex said nothing, waiting for the catch.

"But then I could also rape you at gun point. In my home court, I could so easily enforce my will on you, Anna."

Alex tensed. "I would claw your eyes out first."

Faison smiled, "If we fought, you would lose. You know that, Anna. I have no doubts you would put up a good fight, but you _would_ lose. What I'm trying to tell you is that I won't. I _couldn't_, because I could never hurt you. But you know that too."

"It hurts me to be away from my daughters."

His smile faded. "I've already told you, you can bring them here any time you wish. It's your refusal that's keeping you away from your daughters."

Classic delusional reasoning, Alex marvelled. Psychology 101.

'_You're making me hurt you. It's_ _your_ _fault I'm doing this.'_

Faison gestured towards the sandy space next to him, "Please…come and sit down with me."

"You said you wanted to show me something…" Alex started, not moving away from her horse. She could easily jump on the animal now and get away from him. Although her horse was tired, so was Faison's. And she _was_ the better rider. She'd be able to push her animal with far greater ease than he would.

'And then what?' she asked herself. 'The estate is surrounded by an elaborate security fence, not unfeasibly high but impossible to scale.' A thought crossed her mind, 'Unless…'

"Please. Sit down," she heard him repeat.

"Fine," she complied. Some battles weren't worth the effort. Maybe it was time she became more selective in deciding which ones were.

"Tell me about David."

"David?" Faison's topic of conversation took her by surprise. "Why would you want to talk about David?"

"I'm very curious what made you choose to marry him, after Robert, that is."

'Now that's a good question,' Alex thought, thinking of the countless times she wanted to ask her sister the same. 'Of all the difficulties involved in being Anna. Justifying a marriage to David Hayward just might top the list.'

Faison saw her silence as an invitation to answer the question himself.

"When I heard about your marriage to the cardiologist, I was fascinated, of course. I wanted to learn more about the man. Imagine my surprise when I saw how very similar we are, your husband and I."

"Ex-husband," Alex corrected him. "And for what it's worth, he's nothing like you."

"David Hayward is a rule breaker," Faison explained. "He's a brilliant physician who sees no harm in using any means necessary to further his genius. His research methods are highly unconventional and he barely manages to stay two steps above the law…something you became painfully aware of once you were Chief of Police."

"Yes. It made me realize I made a mistake in marrying him," Alex finished for him.

"Yet you had a child with him." Faison countered, smiling sadly. "Why do you keep doing that to yourself, Anna?"

Alex looked at him uncomprehending. "Doing what?"

"Why do you keep telling yourself that you're something you're not?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You're like me, Anna. A rule breaker. A double agent, a thief, a liar…all those things aren't mistakes of the past; they are the very _essence_ of you. They are the things that make you what you are today. Which is the most incredible woman I've ever met."

"You're wrong."

"You marry someone like Robert Scorpio and tell yourself that the likes of you and him are cut from the same cloth, when that couldn't be further from the truth. You and I are different than him. We always have been. It's why you were drawn to me from the very beginning. Why you seek out the likes of David Hayward and Duke Lavery. Paltry imitations of _me_. Because in life we are always drawn to those who mirror our own souls."

Alex wanted to laugh. "You're insane…"

"Stop it," he said, turning towards her, with a trace of anger. "Stop fighting it. Stop fighting who you are!" He pulled out a water bottle from the riding satchel he wore, offering it to her, disappointed that she refused. "You came to me when you were young…because you saw yourself in me."

"No…I was young, foolish and reckless. It was nothing more than that."

"You saw yourself in me, and then one day you looked in the mirror and no longer liked what you saw, because some self-righteous bastard by the name of Robert Scorpio convinced you that you needed to change into someone different, in order to be good enough for him."

His words shook her and for the first time, Alex wondered just how well she really knew her sister. She knew Anna had flirted with the DVX when she was young and that she'd briefly been a double agent. Alex also knew that Anna had crossed the boundaries of the law more than once. 'But how deep is your link to this man really, little sis? How much else is there that haven't you told me?'

Dimitri had often hinted that there were parts of her sister she didn't know and didn't understand, but Alex had always shrugged him off. Defended her little sister.

'_Anna made mistakes when she was young…like we all did. But she doesn't have this dark side you go on about. After all, Robert forgave her, married her and she's Chief of Police in Pine Valley now. Her past is long behind her…'_

Or was it?

"I've always loved you exactly the way you were, Anna," Faison said softly. "Because I'm the only one who ever truly understood _all_ that you are."

Alex stood back up, distancing herself from him. "You think you know me…but you're wrong."

Faison stood up beside her and grabbed her arm. "Stop running from yourself, Anna!"

"Let go of me!" Alex demanded.

"We could be so good together," he started. "The two of us would be unstoppable." His grey-brown hair had loosened from its ponytail and was blowing across his creased face in the wind.

"I said _'let go'_ !"

Faison released his grip, "Anna…I told you I would never force you to do anything against your will. I always keep my word. There's no need for violence, because I know you will come to me willingly…"

Alex seethed. "Right…just like I came _here_ willingly."

Faison smiled, "You're the one who came to meet me on that bridge. Even though deep down inside you knew that I would never hurt your little girl…"

Doubts washed over Alex again.

_Would Anna have known that and not given in to his blackmail? Would Anna have known he was bluffing? Did she know Cesar Faison that well? _

"One day, you'll come to my bedroom the same way."

Alex shuddered at the thought.

As if reading her mind, Faison smirked. "Don't get any ideas my dear, I'm not a fool. As much as I want to trust you and give you the freedom you want so much…don't be led to believe that having sex with me will make me trust you. Intimacy is not the same as sex." He spoke the words like a warning. "I've learned not to mistake seduction for passion."

'As if I would attempt to seduce you,' Alex thought morbidly.

Stealthily, Faison inched closer to her, and in one quick movement he grabbed hold of her neck and deftly immobilized her hands by clasping them both together into his one free hand.

For the first time, Alex caught a hint of the sheer animal strength in his sinewy limbs.

Before she could defend herself, his lips were on hers, hungrily, as though wanting to swallow them whole. It was a brutal, sadistic kiss.

Alex coughed, wiping her lips with the back of her hand.

"Take that kiss for instance," Faison said icily. "There was nothing intimate about that."

"Don't ever do that again!" Alex raised an angry hand to strike out at him, only to have him push down her attempt.

"I won't," he assured her. "Because the next time we kiss, it will be because you want it as much as I do."

Alex wrapped her arms around herself, fighting the urge to cry.

'_Anna wouldn't wait to be rescued. Anna would find her own way out.' _

"I'll never…" Alex started, testing her voice.

Faison sat back down, next to the fast flowing creek. Birch and oak branches rustled above them, an ignorant oasis of calm, blissfully unaware of the tension below.

"You will," he told her with cold certainty. "I have all the time in the world, Anna. Eventually you _will_ stop fighting yourself. You will stop fighting your _needs._"

Alex stared at him, seated next to the bubbling, cool water of the creek, widening her eyes as he suddenly morphed into Charlotte. Holding out her hand to her.

'_Come here, Sasha. Stop fighting me.' _

Alex gasped at the trick image.

Faison held out his hand to her, "Come sit down with me…I told you there's something I want to show you."

' _Sasha. Let me help you. Stop fighting yourself.'_

"Stop it!" Alex closed her eyes, shaking the image from her mind.

"Anna, what's wrong?"

Alex stared at him at watched the image change once more. Into Dimitri. His familiar face sad. Disappointed.

Repulsed.

'_I don't know you anymore, Alex. You're not the woman I fell in love with.' _

"Yes, I am…" her protest was a whisper.

Then it was Cesar Faison who stood next to her again. "Anna?"

She felt an unexpected sense of relief as the other two images disappeared. Charlotte. Dimitri. Gone and replaced again by Cesar Faison.

His grey-brown hair tossed about in the breeze, its colour a sharp contrast to the crisp white riding shirt he wore.

Gone was the smugness in his face, and he now looked at her with worry.

"Anna? Did you see something?"

Alex shook her head. "No…"

She had to get away from him. Away from _here_.

Or else she would lose her mind.

Again.

She stumbled backwards on the soft, grassy earth, almost tripping over an exposed tree root before turning her back to Faison and running towards the white Lipizaner.

Before Faison could grab her, she was in the saddle, clasping the reins in one hand as she took off.

"_Anna!" _

Alex heard him mounting his brown mare in order to follow her.

"Come on, little snowflake," Alex leaned down onto his neck. "Get away from him."

Away from here.

She rode away from the edge of the forest, into the flat, open space of the steppe and as she did she could see the security fence that lined the estate's grounds, marking its boundary. Keeping its occupants inside.

"Faster!" she urged, hearing Faison's horse behind her. Her horse obeyed and she felt the powerful throb of hoof beats beneath her as the stallion lunged forward. It jumped over a rocky outcrop with ease, effortlessly lifting both itself and his rider into the air.

Faison's words suddenly came back to her.

"_He used to run steeplechase in Austria and Germany." _

Alex eyed the security fence in the distance and pushed the thought from her mind.

'The maximum height of steeplechase obstacles is four feet. That fence must be at least six or seven. It would be impossible…'

"Anna!" She heard his voice in the distance. "Are you crazy? Slow down! You'll kill yourself!"

"_I have all the time in the world, Anna." _

Tears stung her eyes, cutting down her face only to be wiped away, by the wind-blown strands of her hair.

'If I get beyond that fence, there is no way you'll catch me. If I make it over that fence, I'll stand a chance…'

Alex had no idea what was beyond it. Whether another settlement or a village was nearby or whether it was nothing but an endless expanse of forest, interspersed with occasional grassy openings, like the one she was now riding through.

'It doesn't matter,' she thought. 'I can ride for a long time, walk if need be…'

'If I stay here…I'll lose my mind…and that's not an option.'

A voice echoed in the back of her mind.

_If anything happens…forgive me Dimitri. _

Alex guided the horse right towards the fence.

Leaning further still into the animal's neck, she sensed the horses hesitation as it neared the fence. Undeterred, Alex steered it towards the metal obstacle.

"You can do this." She was out of breath now, the fence in full view, and when it was too late to turn back she guided the horse into the jump, realizing only then that the fence was higher than she'd estimated.

The animal balked as it made a mad attempt to stop and in a split second of self-preservation, it flung Alex off its back and catapulted her onto the fence like a rag doll.

In that split second Alex realized that the horse knew instinctively what she should have known as well: that a jump like this was impossible.

What Alex did know was how to fall off a horse. She knew precisely how to break a fall in order to land in one uninjured piece.

Yet this was different.

It wasn't the ground she hit. It was the steel spikes of the fence, cutting into her flesh like knives, as the horse careened against it in a thunderously noisy crash. Time stood still before Alex slowly began a downward slide along its metal spokes, hearing a sloshing sound as the spikes ripped through her flesh, reluctantly releasing their iron grip. Finally, thankfully, gravity pulled her to the ground like a falling rock.

'Maybe I'm on the other side of the fence…'

Immediately after hitting the ground, Alex used her arms to pull herself up in a reflex action. It was a futile effort that made them collapse and fold with her weight.

The fence hovered above her and clouded in her vision.

_Don't…don't close your eyes…if you're on the other side you can still walk away…_

It was her last conscious thought.

Meanwhile, the stallion used every muscle in its body to stop itself from falling and crushing her lifeless body underneath him.

The horse reared its front legs and deftly manoeuvred around her. Once it regained its balance, the horse returned to Alex's side.

Having finally caught up to her, Cesar Faison leaped off his horse and ran to where the exhausted stallion now stood, guarding its unconscious rider.

He knelt down next to Anna, gingerly lifting her upper body off the ground. "Oh...Anna, my love…can you hear me?"

A sticky, warm moisture oozed between his fingers, where they ran though her hair as he cupped her head in his palm. Faison pulled back his hand to see it was now painted in a bright red colour.

Blood.

"Oh God…Anna. "

Panic gripped him. _"What have you done?"_


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

_Anna's __Apartment, Paris, France_

_-_

"I know I said I'd be back as soon as Leah is better, but something's come up," David repeated into the phone. "No, no. Leah's fine. She made a complete recovery. She's…" His face broke into a smile. "Oh Maggie…she's the most beautiful baby in the world. I can't wait for you to see her."

He was cradling Leah in his free arm. "No…it's not Anna. Anna's she's…she's okay…she sends her love. Things are…god it's so, complicated, Maggie I wouldn't know where to begin. I know… I owe you for what you're doing for me. For Ruben. I promise, as soon as I'm back I'll take him off your hands. I'll bring you a souvenir." David laughed at his cousin's response. "Okay, you win. A whole _bag_ of souvenirs. Thanks again, sweetheart. I owe you one." He held the phone up to Leah's face. "Say bye to your cousin Maggie in Pine Valley." Leah clasped the receiver in her hands, making David smile. "Leah says 'hi'."

The smile was still on his face when he hung up the phone and saw Robin enter the room. She carried a blue backpack, her shoulder-length hair was pulled behind her ears. She couldn't look more like a university student if she tried.

"Hi, David."

"Hi, Robin. I didn't hear you come in…"

"I'm good at making clandestine entrances." Robin smirked. "It's in my genes."

David laughed. "I guess it would be." Leah had fallen asleep in his arms. "Your Dad was WSB too, wasn't he?"

Robin nodded, tossing her backpack onto the sofa. "He was. It's how he met Mom." She held out her arms. "Do you mind if I hold her?"

David handed her Leah, watching the baby stir in her sleep. "I just gave her a bath so she smells wonderful."

"Thanks…I think I needed that right now. To hold my little sister."

David said nothing, watching Robin as she sat down with his daughter in her arms. He'd spent nearly every waking moment with Leah since she had come home from the hospital and it suddenly occurred to him that Robin had to be missing her. Missing the time that _she_ used to spend looking after her.

"Your Dad," David went on. "I read that he died trying to get to your mother while she was on the ship that exploded."

"He did."

"He was a hero."

Robin raised her head, eyeing him. "Yeah…he was. But not just for that." She narrowed her brows. "Why are you asking?"

David felt his cheeks flush. "I…no reason. It's just…having Leah in my life now, it made me wonder, whether you miss your father."

"I do," she gave him an sheepish smile. "I still talk to him sometimes. I ask him questions, hoping he'll have the answer, because he was always so confident." She chuckled. "It makes him sound cocky or arrogant, but it was just that he always knew what to say when I was small. He always had the right answers."

"A hero..." David added. "A hero with all the right answers." His expression darkened. "I can't really compete with that, can I?"

"I didn't know it was a competition."

David felt embarrassed. _Why in the world was he spilling his innermost thoughts to Anna's daughter?_ "I didn't mean it like that…"

"Sure you did."

David sank back in the sofa. "Well, not entirely. "

"If it is a competition, you definitely have one huge advantage over Dad."

He raised his eyebrows. "What's that?"

"Well for starters, you're alive."

David cringed. "I'm sorry. I don't have any right or reason to say these things to you."

"It's okay…I'm not offended. Though I'm kind of curious. " Robin stood up delicately. "I think I better put Leah to bed, before she wakes up again."

David nodded. "Sure…good idea. Can I get you something to eat or to drink in the meantime. I take it you've come to see your mother?"

Robin shook her head, "I wasn't sure whether Mom would be home. She rarely has been the last few days." Casting a downward glance to her sleeping sister, she told him she needed to see her baby sister, that she missed Leah.

David watched her take the baby to her room. There was so much about Robin that resembled Anna, including her subtle determination and the lightness in her steps. Yet at the same time there was so much that was unmistakeably different.

'So much that's Robert Scorpio, no doubt,' he thought as he turned on the sink to pour some water into the teakettle. 'Robert Scorpio. The hero.'

Robin made her way back into the dining room faster than David had anticipated. "So, I guess you don't know where Mom is then?" she asked him, not bothering with small talk.

"She left a few hours ago, to meet up with Sean and Dan."

Robin nodded. "I figured she wouldn't be home."

"Truthfully, I have no idea where exactly she is. Dan O'Toole doesn't want her going to the Interpol office because that wouldn't fit with the plan of her laying low. From what I know they've set up some sort of command office somewhere else."

"Oh…" Robin answered. "You sound worried."

David raised his hands in exasperation. "Just today she said she might take off for Mexico or South America to search some of this guy's property there. It's crazy, Robin…this is dangerous stuff. I'd be lying if I said I liked it."

"Mom knows what she's doing and she's got Sean at her side."

David rolled his eyes. "Let's hope he can look after her better than he did Alex."

Robin leaned against the kitchen counter. "Mom doesn't need anyone to look after her."

David raised his brows. "You honestly believe that?"

Robin chuckled. "Honestly? Nah....just trying to see if I could convince myself."

David returned her smile.

"I can't blame Mom for pushing herself though," Robin added. "I'd do the same if anything happened to Leah. I'd go to the ends of the earth for her."

"I know," he agreed softly. "I'm not blaming her…but I just…" He bit his tongue. 'What are you doing?' he asked himself. 'You're going to tell Robin you're worried her mother's going to have a stroke, when she's already terrified for her aunt's safety, never mind trying to handle everything else on her plate?'

"You just what?"

David shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing."

Robin's gaze was unyielding. "You're worried about her." She smiled, "Since you were wondering about unspoken competitions, maybe I could ask you something. Are you really still in love with Mom?"

The question took him by surprise. "Anna and I, what we had. It's over."

"That's not what I asked."

"It's doesn't matter," he told her. "Whether I am or not."

"Sure it matters."

"Your mother won't let me into her life anymore. I blew my chances and I accept that."

Robin took the teakettle off the stove, looking at him strangely. "She won't let you into her life anymore? You're here, aren't you? Do you think you're here just because she needs a babysitter?"

"Truthfully? Yes. Because right now, she does. And your mom isn't cruel…I don't think she'd deny me the right to see my own daughter."

"She _would_ if she didn't think she could trust you with Leah."

David held out a teacup when she offered to pour him some water from the kettle. "Are you always this direct?"

Robin shrugged her shoulders "If I've learned anything from having HIV it's that life is too precious to waste time beating around the bush."

"Just because she trusted me enough to leave Leah in my care, doesn't mean she wants to get back together," David reminded her.

"Mom doesn't trust very easily, you have to know that," Robin pointed out. "When you came here, you were the only one she allowed to help her. She trusted you enough to take whatever medication you gave her, knowing it would knock her out. That's pretty big where Mom's concerned. To give up control like that. _Then _she trusted you to use the serum on Leah. To put my sister off Doctor Kazemi's drug regimen." Robin scrunched her lips, "_That's_ even bigger."

David took a sip of the Earl Grey tea. "She trusts me as a _doctor_ because she knows it's the one thing I won't fail at. That's all."

Robin looked at him, perplexed. "It sounds like you've already given up. And if that's the truth, then you're right. You don't deserve my mom."

"Look," her gaze was making him feel strangely defensive. "I'm not a hero."

"No one expects you to be!"

"When Anna and I were together I made a lot of mistakes. Hell, who am I kidding…I screwed up royally. I didn't realize what I had until I lost it. In the process, I lost your mother's trust."

"Then get it back."

"You think it's that easy? She won't even let me come close enough to try!"

Robin sighed. "I didn't say it was _easy_. But I'm trying to tell you that my mom's worth the effort."

"I know..."

Robin frowned. "I'm not sure you do. If Mom's pushing you away it's 'cause she's thinks she can't trust you and she's just waiting for the moment for you to prove her right. All _you_ have to do is prove her wrong."

"Tell me, Robin, if I did try to prove her wrong," he hesitated, choosing his words. "Would that be alright with you?"

It was the first question that threw her off balance. David watched as she took a shortbread cookie from a jar, debating her answer.

"I don't know you well enough to judge you, David," she said softly, after eating a piece. "I get that you're not a saint. I know you hurt Mom and I don't like that you didn't try to work things out with her before Leah was born. She needed you when she was pregnant, more than she'd ever admit. And I'd be lying if I said it didn't bother me that you weren't there for her. But from everything I've seen since you've been in Paris you're not exactly the devil incarnate either. You've taken care of Mom…you tested that serum on yourself. Though I'm still not sure whether that stunt means you're totally insane or incredibly brave." Robin took a deep breath, "And you're so obviously crazy about Leah." She smiled. "That does score you some major points."

"She's the most amazing thing in my life."

"Leah needs a Dad," Robin agreed.

David met her eyes. "She'll have one regardless of whether or not Anna and I end up together. Promise."

Robin offered him a smile and David sensed it was the answer she was hoping for.

He reached for the teakettle and refilled her cup. "I'm sorry…" he said. "I don't know where all this came from. I bet you didn't come here to play counsellor."

"It's okay," she smirked. "I don't mind getting to know you better."

"You're really easy to do that with. Talk, I mean."

Robin laughed. "I get that a lot. 'Robin you listen really well,' 'Robin…you're such an old soul.' Funny, isn't it, how two such A-type personalities like my parents ended up with such a B-type kid?"

David laughed along with her. "No sure I agree with that…but what you're saying is that there's hope for Leah then?"

"Yeah," she took another sip of tea. "Mom says I remind her of Alex sometimes…aside from the whole medicine thing. She says, like Alex, I'm a gentler version of her."

David saw her expression change.

"I'm really scared for her, David. For Alex. It's been over a week."

David wanted to reach out and take her in his arms. Her fear was probably why she'd come here, needing to hold her sister. "Alex _will _be okay," he told her, hoping he sounded convincing.

Robin nodded. "I hope so…god, I don't know what I'd do if she's not." She eyed with hesitation, as if debating whether, in lieu of her mother, she could talk to _him_. "Since I've known her, David, she's always been there for me. Even before Mom moved to Paris, Alex would call me and invite me over to Vadsel. She'd help me with my studies…always, without question. When I got sick from the protocol last year. Alex was the first person I saw when I woke up in the hospital…" The last words got caught in her throat and David noticed that she was close to tears. "It's like she decided she loved me from the moment she knew me, David," Robin tried to explain. "Alex has been this huge constant in my life lately. Always there when I needed her, and at the same time I feel like I've hardly had the chance to really get to know her."

This time he didn't hesitate and he moved to put his arms around her. "You will. When we find her and she comes back to us."

Her eyes watered. "What if I don't?"

"Maybe I can help you," he suggested. "To get to know her better."

"How?" Robin didn't understand.

"Alex and I did our residency together, in London. I know her quite well."

"You're kidding!" Robin looked at him in surprise. "I mean, I know you knew her from Pine Valley but Mom never mentioned you two knowing each other from before. In fact, I gathered you weren't the best of friends."

David bit back a grin. "You could say that. But when it comes to medicine, even when we were young, we always had a lot of grudging respect for each other.

Robin's face lit up. "Tell me what she was like back then, after graduating from med school…"

David grabbed the box of cookies and gestured towards the sofa. "Why don't we get comfortable? This could take a while."

He watched Robin's shoulders relax, as she sat down on the sofa at the other end from him, folding her legs into its deep cushions. "Tell me from the beginning, when you first met each other."

David grinned trying to recall images from an eternity ago. He remembered the arguments he used to have with Alex. They'd debated everything under the sun, whether it was the latest advances in medicine or his relationship with her roommate, they never lacked a topic on which to disagree. Now, sitting next to Robin, who was desperately missing her aunt, their once heated discussions suddenly lost their bitter sting.

"We first met during a rain storm," he chuckled. "We were scheduled to work our first shift together at University College Hospital, and my umbrella had fallen apart in the rain and I arrived in the ER like a wet, dripping dog…needless to say I didn't exactly impress her. She asked me whether I'd never heard of an anorak…leave it to Alex to remind me that English and American are really two different languages." David laughed. "Of course, I told her, no, I had no idea what the hell she was talking about and that she could get off her high horse thank you very much and then…"

_Epsom, England_

_-_

Andrei Marick tiptoed down the corridor, towards the red exit sign at the end.

The luminated hands of a clock near the sign told him it was almost three in the morning. He heard high-pitched giggling as he passed a door in the hallway. Girls were strictly forbidden in the dormitories. Of course that didn't mean there weren't any here. It just meant sneaking them in was part of the fun.

Andrei hadn't had the pleasure. 'Not yet,' he thought. But for the first time in his life he felt like he had a chance. For the first time he wasn't the shortest guy in the building.

He made his way outside, quietly closing the stairwell door behind him as he started the short walk to the stables.

As Dimitri had demanded, Andrei had taken the math test earlier today. He'd even gone so far as to spend the morning studying for it, rather than spending it with Tempus.

'I'm going to prove you wrong about me,' he thought. 'You think I'm not good enough for this school.' Worst of all he feared that Dimitri thought he wasn't good enough to ride Tempus.

The lighting in the stables was minimal, but enough for Andrei to see his shadow against the wooden walls. Andrei peaked into the stalls of various horses. Some were asleep, others wide awake. He knew a dozen or so by name. He'd ridden most of them and each time he did it magnified the respect he had for his own horse.

Tempus Fugit was an extraordinary animal, on the brink of what would be an extraordinary racing career.

'And I'm going to along for the ride,' he thought, still in awe at the notion. 'Me. Andrei Ionescu. The nobody.'

He walked up to Tempus, stroking his neck. Tempus rarely sat down, even in sleep. If he did it was because something was wrong with him.

'I missed you today,' Andrei whispered in Romanian. He always spoke to him in Romanian, and, although it made no sense, Andrei knew that Tempus understood. Another trainee had taken him out for his exercise today. 'While I was stuck inside looking at stupid integers,' he thought miserably.

He sat down on the hay, next to his horse, after he'd yanked a wool blanket from the wall, draping it over himself. The others would laugh at him if they knew he how much he needed to be here. Tempus was a part of him, but he was also a part of Alex. She had broken him first, and for that Andrei envied her. Ultimately that made Tempus _her_ horse.

'Even so, she gave you to me,' he whispered to the horse. 'The best gift in the entire world.'

His mind drifted back to that cold night at Vadsel, when she'd come looking for him in the stables. Even then, when he had wanted to run away and jump out of his skin, the horses had offered him comfort.

Alex had bandaged the bruise he'd gotten from trying to ride Tempus, and then, she did something that had shocked him. Something no one else had done for him. Instead of leaving, Alex stayed and slept next to him.

Then at sunrise, she'd taken him along to ride Tempus. Andrei would never forget that morning. It was the most exhilarating ride of his life. Seeing the fall colours of the Hungarian countryside, on the back of the most incredible horse in the world, his arms wrapped around the only person who had ever stayed by his side for an entire night.

For the first time in his life he felt as thought he belonged. That he was part of something. That he was a somebody.

Andrei gazed up at Tempus now, feeling the warmth of tears falling down his cheeks.

In turn, the horse did something unexpected. It kneeled down next to him.

'You know, don't you?' Andrei whispered, wiping his nose gratefully, leaning against Tempus. 'I don't know how, but you know what I feel like.'

It hurt. It hurt so much he felt like he was going to burst.

Not knowing whether she was okay or whether she would come back, hurt in a way that was different from anything he'd ever felt.

'She can't be gone,' he told Tempus. There were so many people in the world that deserved to be punished. But not Alex. Not the one person in the world who had turned him from a nobody into a somebody.

Andrei hadn't prayed since one of the orphanage's caretakers had forced him to, during an Easter mass. Telling him that if he didn't he wouldn't be eating dinner.

He wasn't sure whether he was saying the right things. Still, he clasped his hands together and prayed. First in Romanian, then in English. To be on the safe side.

'Please,' he whispered. 'I'll do whatever you want…anything...but don't take her away from me.'

_Paris, France_

_Charles de Gaulle International Airport _

_-_

"_Merci_."

Sandrine Mutanga took the ticket and stepped into the _RER_ train that would take her into downtown Paris.

Like most of her brothers and sisters, Sandrine had spent a year in private school here, at her father's insistence.

Drifting back in time, Sandrine could still remember the words and ideas of Rousseau and Voltaire, as taught by Monsieur Roussell, the shy, thin Belgian teacher with the lisp. She remembered countless cafes along cobblestone roads that served café au lait in bright, ceramic bowls. And outdoor stands that sold huge crepes filled with sugar.

'But those memories won't help much now,' she thought, grabbing a seat on the train.

She had celebrated her sixteenth birthday in Paris, with a huge _gateau au chocolat_ made by her Kenyan roommate. It had been a beautiful, unforgettable year.

Sandrine hadn't gone back to Paris since.

Even so, the city felt familiar. Paris was an ethnic mosaic with a large North African population. Sandrine thought she heard the couple behind her speaking Arabic.

As the train sped out of the airport, Sandrine cringed, thinking the same though that looped through her mind during her flight.

Clive Sampson would be furious if he knew where she was.

'More than furious,' she corrected herself. 'He'd fire me. And if he did, my father would never forgive me for the decision I made yesterday.'

She had simply gone to Nidjili airport and purchased a ticket to Paris on the next available flight. Notifying no one. Not Sampson. Not her family.

'I will call him tomorrow,' she thought. 'He can't kill me over the phone...'

Pushing the thought of Sampson's wrath from her mind, Sandrine pulled a map from her black suitcase, searching for the street address she already knew by heart.

"Robin Scorpio," Sandrine said the name aloud, wondering what Robert would think if he knew what she was doing.

'He would be angry too,' she decided. 'Angry and jealous, all at once.'

After a brief search on the WSB's global database, Sandrine found out that Robin Scorpio was a medical student at the Sorbonne. That she lived in rental apartment close to the university.

Unlike her mother's, Robin Scorpio's phone number and address were listed.

'And if I find Robin, I'll find other people looking for Anna,' Sandrine reminded herself, guiltily wondering if Robert would ever forgive her for what she was about to do. Then again, him being angry with her implied that he would have returned after finding Anna and killing Faison. It meant that the truth would have come out by then anyway.

Sandrine sunk back into her seat, more terrified at the alternative. 'If you don't come back, it means you're in trouble and you need my help…'

'Either way,' she thought sadly 'There's a good chance I've lost you.'

_Vatican City, Italy_

_Outside the Sistine Chapel_

_-_

There were so many people ahead of him.

He'd been in line almost an hour before the doors opened. He had now spent almost the entire day in the Vatican Museums and it was barely enough time to scratch the surface.

There was one room after another. Each more glorious than the one before.

Halls full of sculptures. Tapestries. Maps. Oils. Watercolours.

The treasures were endless and Jan had to physically tear himself from them, in order to reach his goal before the museum closed. Nearly every room he went to had a sign with an arrow, teasing him that it was near, yet leading to another treasure filled room instead. Now, judging from the increasingly dense crowd of people, Jan knew he was almost there. It was only one room away. _La Capella Sistina_. The Sistine Chapel. It was the ultimate glory at the end of a labyrinthine maze of unbelievable riches.

If only it wasn't for the hundreds of other people standing in the room with him.

Being herded in like cattle wasn't how he had envisioned a visit to one of the greatest works of art ever conceived.

"It's warm in here isn't it?" a voice from behind him observed.

It was a woman wearing a red and white baseball cap, with the words _Citta del Vaticano_ embossed on it. She pointed to her hat, when she saw Jan looking at it. "It's great, isn't it? There's this gypsy selling them near the entrance for two Euros!" Her eyes widened, impressed at her good fortune in finding such a bargain in a city that boasted few. "Two Euros," she repeated, taking off the polyester cap and wiping off a thin layer of sweat underneath her blonde bangs. "I bet they're charging ten times as much in that souvenir place over by St. Peter's."

Jan tried to ignore her.

He feared that if he dignified her comment with a response she would suggest he got a pair of matching white American running shoes.

'_Because, heaven forbid you should travel without the word tourist stamped on your forehead…' _

"Those shoes don't look very comfortable," she said pointing at his black, Italian leather loafers. Reading his mind.

"The rest of the nation seems to do alright with them," he replied, fully irritated now. There were still dozens of tourists ahead of him, waiting to enter the chapel to view Michelangelo's crowning achievement.

"I guess," the woman pondered. "Now that you mention it, why _don't_ Italians wear more comfortable shoes? Especially with these bloody uneven sidewalks."

Jan frowned. Perhaps this was a sign. That no matter how risky it was, he needed to come back another day. He had waited a lifetime for this, and the solemnity of this moment was going downhill rapidly, thanks to this stranger. This _tourist_.

Jan needed to make his way to Paris tonight, to meet with Faison's contact, and then in a day or so he would most likely have a death threat hanging over his head. All he wanted was to make sure his life didn't end before seeing the Sistine Chapel. Was it really to much to ask for? To have his wish fullfilled with a modicum of dignity?

He didn't notice that the woman held out her hand.

"Peggy," she offered. "My name is Peggy."

Jan swallowed bitterly and gave her a feeble smile in return. "I'm Hans."

Peggy smiled, raising the visor of her baseball cap. "You're German, aren't you?"

"Swedish. I was named after my German grandfather." It was a response he'd used so often it shot out of his mouth automatically. "And you're English," he observed dryly.

Peggy laughed, her cheeks blushing. "People always tell me that, back home in the States. You see, even though I've lived in Cincinnati for over twenty years, I grew up in Manchester, England. I don't mind it. People have a thing for English accents in America. They say it sounds smart. _Sophisticated_. But..." She giggled. "Between you and me, in Manchester most of my old friends tell me I sound more American than English."

Jan looked her, puzzled. "What did you say?"

"It's weird. People in the States tell me I sound English but my old friends in England tell me I sound American."

Jan's thoughts flew back to that park bench, over a year ago where he first met Anna Devane.

"_I do speak English…and unlike my French, it's pretty comprehensible."_

Her accent when she had spoken to him that day. It nearly mirrored this woman's. It was the English of someone who had lived outside of her homeland for well over a decade. It was…_Americanized_.

It was precisely what had bothered him when he ran into Anna at Alexei Estate. That subtle _something_ he couldn't put a finger on.

'Anna at Alexei Estate didn't recognize me,' he thought breathlessly. 'And her accent was different than it was when I first spoke to her. It was very…_English_.'

_How was that possible?_

Jan thought of his boss. Cesar Faison might not have had Jan's eye for detail but he knew Anna Devane like no one else on earth.

'Wouldn't he have noticed the same thing?'

Jan shook his head. Not necessarily. Cesar Faison hadn't _spoken_ to her in over a decade. Her English accent _would_ have been more pronounced back then.

Jan noticed Peggy's lips moving, but he ignored the words that came out. He suddenly wanted to phone Faison and share this odd observation with him.

Then, an even crazier thought suddenly entered his mind.

Anna Devane had a twin sister. Alexandra Marick.

"Alexandra doesn't know me, and she only recently left England…"

_It wasn't possible, was it?_

Jan laughed at the absurdity of his thoughts. 'No…it couldn't be. Anna would never ask her sister to do anything like this. It wouldn't make sense. Besides Faison would know right away…'

_Or would he?_

Jan remembered Faison mentioning Anna's lack of interest in the art he had placed in the estate for her.

"…_she pretends not to notice. Because she knows I put them here for her, so she pretends like she couldn't care less. It's a very Anna Devane thing to do."_

Unless she wasn't ignoring them on purpose. Maybe she didn't appreciate them because she truly had no idea of their value.

"What did you say? Who's Alexandra?"

_Had he spoken his thoughts aloud?_

"Nobody," Jan shot back.

The thought send a shiver down his spine. It was crazy.

Impossible.

_Madness!_

And yet.

A museum guard told Peggy to remove her baseball cap.

Finally, they were nearing the entrance.

Jan's heart skipped a beat. He was about to step inside a room he'd dreamed of seeing since he was eight years old, while an impossible idea was now etched in his mind.

_Was is really possible that the woman at Alexei Estate wasn't Anna?_

'I hope not,' he thought. 'For her sake.'

Jan tried to imagine what Cesar Faison would do if he found out Jan had betrayed his trust.

'It will be insignificant compared to what he will do if he realizes Anna tricked him.'

Jan wasn't Catholic but he dipped his fingers into a marble bowl of water near the entrance and made the sign of the cross, as he stepped into the chapel.

'God help Alexandra Marick if she is at Alexei Estate.'

_Paris, France _

_Auberge Augustin_

_-_

Dimitri Marick ran his fingers along the buttons of the cordless phone, closing his eyes tiredly.

Sleep. He was in desperate need of sleep.

There was a bed in the corner of the room that beckoned to him.

The room he was in was one of three connected rooms of a small downtown hotel. Outside his room Dimitri heard the sound of voices and the steady din of three computers. It was here in this hotel that Dan O'Toole had decided to set up their so-called 'command post.' It was here where Dimitri had spent most of his day.

Dan O'Toole assured him that their computers had full access to an interconnected web of law enforcement and intelligence databases. Still Dimitri didn't like the set-up.

They should have been conducting this search with the help of dozens of agents, from within the offices of Interpol and the WSB. Not here, in a makeshift office, with the very same people who had gotten Alex into this mess.

'_If Faison has ears inside Interpol or the WSB, the last thing we need is Anna running an investigation from there. She's on maternity leave. That's still the official story," Sean Donely had warned him. _

"_If he has ears inside WSB," Dimitri frowned. "Doesn't that speak volumes about your organization? Wouldn't his so-called informants wonder why the hell there's no official investigation into the kidnapping of Anna Devane?"_

"_Anna has to lay low, to not blow your wife's cover, I don't know why you can't understand that? Alex's life depends on it."_

They knew that Alex was his Achilles heel, so of course, Dimitri had conceded. If they insisted this was their best chance of keeping Alex's cover safe, he would go along. For now.

Dimitri yawned, ignoring the bed. Instead he pulled four items that Robin Scorpio had given him this morning out of his jacket pocket.

The first was a gold ring, with his name engraved on the inside in cursive script. Her wedding band.

The second was the gold necklace and platinum pendant he'd given Alex a week ago, at the restaurant where they had dinner. _Tempus Fugit, Amor Manet._ Dimitri's eyes burned with fatigue and he could barely make out the inscription on the horseshoe-shaped pendant.

Then there was her watch. A simple gold and silver Longines watch. She'd bought it for herself, long before meeting him, and they had been amused to discover they both wore the same brands. Alex had left it behind in Anna's apartment, in exchange for her the heavy, silver men's watch her sister wore.

Lastly, there were her glasses. Elegant, dark brown fames inside a case of the same colour.

"_I thought you should be the one to hang on to these," Robin Scorpio had told him this morning, meeting him outside the door of his hotel room. "Alex left them at Mom's apartment, before…" Robin's words had gotten caught in her throat._

"_Thank you." Dimitri had observed her standing in front of him and he saved her from having to finish her sentence. "Thank you for bringing them here."_

_Robin had stood there, in the hotel corridor, waiting for him to say something else, before reaching up to put her arms around him. _

"_Oh Dimitri… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that everything went wrong."_

_Her hug was surprisingly strong. He accepted it, grateful for the simplicity of her words. No clichéd promises that everything would be alright. No reminders that no one was to blame. _

_A simple admission that things had gone terribly wrong. _

_It was more than anyone else had offered._

"_Have you told Andrei?" _

"_I have. He has right to know." _

"_How did he…?" _

"_He'll be fine." _

"_If there's anything I can do for him. Or for you…" _

_He had returned her hug, humbled by the tears that ran down her face. _

"_Thank you, Robin." _

In spite of his dislike for Anna Devane, Dimitri adored Robin Scorpio. He loved her honesty.

Now, Dimitri cradled the items in the palm of his hand, letting in the flood of memories they brought with them.

Their wedding in London. _"To have and to hold. In sickness and in health."_ They were timeless words. Yet at their wedding, that afternoon, they were an instant reminder of vows they already knew all too well. Vows that had already kept.

The dinner in Paris. Was it really only a week ago he had given Alex the pendant? He remembered her smile when raising a candlelit toast. _"To love. And growing old together."_

Then he opened the case holding her glasses.

"_Here," he was back at Vadsel now, handing them to her, next to the light of the fireplace. "You're going to go blind if you try and read with this light. Use your glasses."_

"_I wish I didn't need these," she had groaned. "They make me look like a librarian. Did you know my sister has 20/20 vision? How unfair is that?"_

_He had grinned. He loved it when she wore then. "They make you look like the genius that you are," he had corrected her. _

"Stop it," Dimitri snapped the glass case shut, erasing the memories. "Stop acting like she's not coming back."

He hadn't allowed Andrei to indulge his fears, yet now he was sitting here doing exactly that. Drowning in memories rather than taking action.

He dialled the number he wanted to call, letting it ring several times, relived to hear his brother's voice answer on the other end.

Dimitri saw the time on his Longines watch. "I woke you, didn't I?"

Edmund told him he didn't, but judging from the tone in his brother's voice, Dimitri knew he was lying. "Did you make any progress at your end?"

Dimitri didn't have a chance to hear the answer.

The connection was cut and he saw Sean Donely standing in the doorway of his room, glaring at him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Excuse me?"

"You're calling Pine Valley. Wildwind Estate to be exact." The switchboard controls that Dan O'Toole set up monitored all outgoing and incoming phone calls.

"I'm calling my brother," Dimitri told him. "Not that it's any of your damn business."

"Every time you do another stupid, reckless thing to jeopardize this investigation, it becomes my business," Sean shot back.

Dimitri felt a mounting anger inside him. "Edmund has a right to know what happened. Edmund cares for Alex." He swallowed bitterly. It was understatement that Sean had no way of understanding. Edmund didn't just care for Alex as a friend. His brother had loved her once and had been ready to spend the rest of his life with her. 'If I hadn't recovered from my illness, Edmund might be the one sitting here today. Ready to punch you in the gut.'

"Edmund Grey runs a news magazine." Sean pointed out.

"_Exactly_. My brother has far-reaching sources that can help me find my wife. I'll be damned if I let you co-erce me into not making use of them!"

"Edmund Grey and the media are one and the same!"

Dimitri began to understand the root of Sean's accusation and it only served to bring his anger to a boiling point. "Are you implying my brother would do anything to jeopardize Alex? That he would proceed with anything but the utmost discretion?"

Sean moved closer, his cheeks a furious red. "You know what I _really_ think, Mr. Marick? I think that _you don't_ think! Every time we tell you to exercise caution, you run around and do the exact opposite…you bring in investigators from Hungary…you take off for London to visit your son without so much as telling us…then you call your family and broadcast what happened…"

" '_Broadcast'_?"

Conveniently, Sean Donely had inched close enough so that Dimitri didn't have to reach far to deliver his first blow.

Sean blocked his punch, and retaliated with one directly to the gut, knocking the wind out of Dimitri. The success of the blow caught Donely off guard, just long enough for the split second Dimitri needed to recover and land his fist directly on Sean's jaw.

Just outside the room, Anna and O'Toole jumped to their feet in response to the commotion.

"What the hell…" Dan muttered, casting a sideways glance at Anna, hearing a crashing sound follow a groan. Both of them ran into the room, just as Sean was about to deliver another punch.

Anna was faster. She grabbed a hold of Donely's arms, while at the same time Dan caught hold of Dimitri, restraining him and pushing him out of Sean's way.

"Have you lost your mind?" Anna asked Sean, who shook free of her grip, knowing that if it was Dan O'Toole who was doing the restraining, he wouldn't have given in so easily.

"_That _was long overdue," Sean spat out, catching his breath, glaring at Dimitri. "You arrogant, foolish son of a bit..."

Unlike Anna's effort with Sean, it took all of O'Toole's strength to restrain Dimitri Marick.

"You have one hell of a lot of nerve," Dimitri hissed at Sean, fighting Dan's grip. "If you weren't the incompetent, spineless coward that you are, we wouldn't be here today!"

Sean lunged at him again, narrowly missing Anna in the process.

"Stop this, _right now_!" Anna threatened. "This is crazy! We're supposed to be working together to find my sister, instead you're acting like schoolyard bullies."

The words had their desired effect and Sean's shoulders relaxed. His features softened. "You're right…I'm sorry…"

There was no similar sentiment from Dimitri. Dan led him out of the room, still restrained. "I think you need to go out for some fresh air."

Before being whisked out into the hotel corridor, Dimitri brushed off Dan O'Toole's grip. "I don't need an escort, thank you very much."

He slammed the door behind him.

"You want to tell us what the hell just happened?" Anna demanded, forcing Sean to take a seat.

Sean's lower lip was cracked and drops of blood were dripping onto his white shirt collar.

"Frankly I don't want to know," O'Toole told him, coming back into the room, disgusted. "That was uncalled for. Dimitri Marick is a civilian. He doesn't know whether his wife is alive or dead. I don't give a damn whether he's an arrogant bastard or not. He's barely capable of thinking a rational thought right now. But _you_…_you're_ supposed to be above these kind of reactions." He frowned. "If you ever do anything like that again. I'll punch your lights out myself."

Anna rolled her eyes. "Yes, because we really need another display of testosterone."

Her icy look made him raise his hands in self-defence. "Whatever it takes to keep the peace, Devane."

They heard the sound of the phone ringing in the other room and O'Toole left them to answer it.

"Well?" Anna asked softly, once the Irishman was out of earshot. "O'Toole might not care what happened. But I do. What in the world made you decide to knock the living daylights out of Dimitri Marick?"

"He's an ass…" Sean bit his lip, grabbing a tissue to wipe off the blood. "Anna, ever since we set up here, he's doing everything in his power to screw things up."

"We're trying to find his _wife_, Sean! He wants to do _something._ Who can blame him?"

"He was on the phone with Edmund Grey. After we told him time and time again to disclose this to no one else. _No one_."

"Edmund is his _brother_," Anna countered. "I _know_ Edmund. We can trust him. He would never do anything to hurt Alex. He's not exactly going do a cover story on my sister's kidnapping!"

"Edmund Grey now has sources looking into Cesar Faison," Sean told her incredulously. "For God's sake, we have a_ journalist _pocking his nose into Faison's underworld activities!"

Anna frowned.

"Dimitri has no idea who we are dealing with here," Sean whispered. "_None_."

"Dimitri's scared to death for Alex. He's trying to do everything in his power…" Anna tried, although she knew Sean was right. Her thoughts went back in time, to the explosion in Venezuela.

_Robert on the boat, crying out to her. Before the flames engulfed him._

Sean was right. Dimitri had no idea.

"He won't listen to reason," Sean explained, dabbing at his lip. "He can't even keep his mouth shut. Because he has a few million dollars to his name, he thinks he can come in here and call the shots."

Anna said nothing.

"Sweetheart, in the end his actions could _really_ hurt Alex," Sean tried to reason.

"I'll talk to him then," Anna told him.

Sean grunted. "Right…because he's so receptive to what you have to say?" The Count's treatment of Anna bothered him more than he admitted and Sean debated whether that wasn't the real reason he couldn't restrain himself any longer where Dimitri Marick was concerned. There wasn't a day that went by without Dimitri Marick making a backhanded remark that suggested Anna was to blame for all of this.

"Dimitri doesn't like me, Sean. I know that," Anna said, reading his thoughts. "But I'm over it. Maybe its time you got over it as well. 'Cause god knows, Alex doesn't have time to spare while we beat each other up."

The bleeding on his lips hadn't stopped and Anna got up to get a washcloth from the room's bathroom. After soaking it in ice-cold water, she returned to press it against his swelling lip.

"Promise me you won't do anything stupid like that again."

Sean nodded, grateful for the icy cold. "Promise."

Anna stood back up. "Better?"

"Much."

She took the bloodied cloth from his hands. "Let me run it under the water once more."

In the bathroom, Anna turned the tap back on, studying her reflection in the mirror. Her headache from this morning had returned with a vengeance, just as an image of the tanker explosion had crept back into her mind. She debated whether to take another one of David's prescription pills. Unlike anything else she took, they worked. Yet they clouded her mind in a fog that she didn't like.

She decided against it.

David had left them on her night-table stand this morning, with a note underneath.

'_If your headaches get worse. No more than four a day.' _He had signed it _Doctor Hayward. _

The memory of the note almost made her smile. She'd kept David at arm's length since he arrived in Paris and she wondered if she would ever let that change.

Anna squeezed the water from the cloth and took another glance in the mirror, gasping at the image that stared back at her.

"_Anna, help! Please…help!" _

It wasn't her face that stared back. It was Alex's. Her sister had one arm outstretched towards her, reaching out from the mirror.

"_I need you, little sis. It hurts, Anna…" _

It felt like someone cut off the air in the room. Anna's hands squeezed the life out of the facecloth she was holding. "Alex…" she managed to mumble, but the image was already gone.

"Anna?"

This time she looked into the mirror and saw Sean standing behind her.

"Anna, sweetheart, are you okay?"

Anna nodded. Numb. "Yeah…"

"God, you're pale," he whispered, wrapping an arm around her waist. It was an understatement. She was white as a sheet. "Come sit down on the bed."

She allowed him to lead her out of the bathroom. She felt so cold. Ice-cold. Lifeless.

"Come, put your head down," Sean instructed her, clasping her hands in his.

Anna had been pushing herself too hard, for too long. She had already been exhausted when Sean first came to see her in Paris. A difficult pregnancy, Faison's re-emergence, Robin's illness…and now _this._

"Sweetheart, you should lie down. I'm going to call David."

"No," Anna raised her head to look at him. "I'm fine. It's not me, it's Alex…"

"Alex?" Sean didn't understand.

"She was calling out to me," Anna tried to explain. "I know it sounds crazy, but I heard her voice. She's hurt, Sean…"

"Anna…sweetheart, you're exhausted. Your mind's playing tricks on you."

"I _felt_ it, Sean! She was trying to tell me something!"

"Anna," he tried, gently. "Whatever you felt, don't let it paralyse you. There's nothing we can do but what we're already doing, you know that, right?"

Anna nodded. She wondered what she would do if Sean hadn't come to Paris when he did. How many times had the sound of his voice had been the only thing keeping her sane?

"I know. You're right."

"I want you to lie down for a while."

"Sean, I…" she started to protest. "I'm fine."

"I know," he replied. "But you really need some sleep."

"So do you, in case you're…"

She didn't get a chance to finish her sentence.

Dan O'Toole stood in the doorway. "I have some interesting news."

"What?" Sean asked.

"I just got off the phone with one of the guards we put on Robin's apartment." He turned to Anna. "It was a good call, Devane. Because we found someone snooping."

"One of Faison's men?" her eyes widened.

"Not quite. A woman."

Sean scowled. "That doesn't surprise me. Some of Faison's top men have been…women."

O'Toole's lips lifted into a smile. "Except here's where it gets interesting. The guard caught her with full ID on her."

"Fake, no doubt," Anna remarked.

"He doesn't think so. Maybe you'd be the one to verify that for us," O'Toole turned to Sean. "Apparently she's one of yours. WSB."


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

_Alexei Estate, north of Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Cesar Faison lit another cigarette, while pacing the room. It was late. When he pulled back the thick, burgundy curtains, a wave of darkness threatened to spill into the room.

He didn't hear Olga enter.

"Sir, can I bring you another tea?" she asked him in Russian.

"No…" He didn't look at her. "Yes. Another tea is fine."

"Yes, sir."

Faison turned around, catching her downward glance. "No…make that coffee. Turkish coffee. Sweet."

"I will bring you both," she offered.

Faison scowled. "Fine…whatever."

He didn't hear her leave.

It had been almost two hours since the English doctor and his assistant had arrived at the gates of Alexei Estate. For almost two hours the two of them had been in the room with Anna.

At first Faison had insisted on staying at her side, until the doctor forced him to leave.

"_I cannot do my job with you either hovering over me or pacing around like a tiger in a cage."_

"_I want to be here if anything happens," Faison had insisted. "She's needs me." _

"_If anything changes, you'll be the first to know. Now kindly let me do my job." _

'Blood,' Faison thought, noticing his hand trembled as he moved the cigarette to his lips. 'There was so much blood.'

Anna had regained consciousness almost as soon as he had found her on the ground, next to his horse. He'd taken her back to the estate, as gently and quickly as was possible on horseback, cursing the rugged terrain. During the ride, her blood had soaked his clothes.

When they arrived at the estate, she'd been barely conscious.

The memory of cradling her injured body in his arms made him feel nauseous. Faison took another drag of his cigarette, not wanting to throw up a second time.

"Sir…"

It was Olga again. How was it possible that she made no sound when she entered the room?

This time she held a shirt and a pair of pants in her hands. "I brought you some fresh clothing," she said quietly. "I think you should…"

Faison hadn't noticed that he was still wearing his blood-stained clothing.

"Put them over there," he instructed her.

Olga nodded silently, placing them on the Edwardian drawer.

Faison watched her close the door, just after the English doctor, Henry Thorpe entered through it.

"How is she?" Faison demanded.

"She _should_ be in a hospital," the doctor chided him. The man had a thick white beard that reminded Faison of Father Christmas. "I feel as though I was practicing Stone Age medicine tonight, Mr. Faison. Without proper equipment and testing I can't do much other than stitch her up."

"It's too far from here," Faison repeated his earlier reasoning against bringing her to a hospital, putting out his cigarette in a silver ashtray. "How _is _she?" he repeated.

"She's…." Henry Thorpe sighed, taking a seat on the antique sofa, looking exhausted and drained himself. "Truthfully…all things considered, she's in surprisingly good shape."

Faison looked at him incredulously. "She lost so much blood!"

"Superficial flesh wounds," the doctor corrected him. "Especially the one on her head. It looks worse than it is. A couple of stitches did the trick. The only significant wound is on her thigh, where a spike from the fence dug into her flesh. Walking will be painful, if not impossible for the next few days, but, barring any infection, I reckon she'll recover completely."

"What about the other…?" Faison started.

"Her left-wrist is likely sprained and she might have a slight concussion, although she tried to convince me otherwise. But I think that was only to avoid a hospital visit. She'll also have some ugly bruises making an appearance over the next few days…but other than that, she was surprisingly lucky."

"_Lucky_?" Faison stared at him in disbelief.

"Given her fall and her medical history, her injuries could have been far worse."

"No internal injuries?"

The doctor frowned. "Would you mind if I had some of your brandy?"

"Here," Faison scowled as he handed him the decanter. "I asked you a question, Doctor."

"In regards to internal injuries, let me remind you that I'm _guessing!_ Without proper equipment there is not much else I cando but take educated guesses. Given her history of cranial injuries and amnesia, we should be doing a CAT scan at the very least and she should be monitored for internal bleeding. By not doing that, you're playing God with her life."

"Anna hates hospitals," he said softly. Faison knew that taking her to one would only make her more miserable.

"I don't think this is one instance where you should give in to her wants," Henry Thorpe sighed. As primary physician to one of the largest organized crime groups in Moscow, Dr. Thorpe had treated his share of odd patients, but this woman, and the man who both worshipped and imprisoned her, were certainly near the top of his list. "I should go now. It's a long journey back to Moscow," he told Faison. "My nurse, Viktor will stay here to monitor her for the next forty-eight hours. He'll keep an eye on her, change the dressing on her wounds, monitor the saline IV I set up to keep her hydrated…"

"You will stay as well," Faison told him.

The English doctor ran his fingers through his beard. "I don't think so. Ivan needs me in Moscow tomorrow. Given the lack of equipment, Viktor can do everything I'm able to...the tetanus shot and the antibiotics will hopefully prevent in… "

"Viktor's not a doctor," Faison cut him off. "I've already informed Ivan that I needed your services here. Both of you will be compensated accordingly," Faison told him. "Olga has set up rooms for you and Viktor."

"I don't think that's neces…"

"It wasn't an invitation," Faison cut him off again. "It was an order. However, I will assure you're made to feel most comfortable at Alexei Estate. Please let Olga know what you wish to eat. She'll pass your request on to my cook."

Doctor Thorpe knew it was futile to protest. "Fine."

"May I see her?" Faison asked.

The Englishman chuckled. "Be my guest, if you're in the mood for her volatility. Who knows, maybe her temper has improved since I gave her something for the pain. Actually... the medication will make her drowsy. I would like you to try and make sure she stays awake. In the event she does have a concussion."

The request took Faison by surprise. "How do you suggest I…?"

The doctor shrugged his shoulders. "Talk to her, read her something…I don't know. You know better than me what stimulates her."

The idea of entertaining her made him panic. He'd barely managed to capture her attention for more than a few minutes since he had brought her here. How was he going to hold it for an entire night?

"One more thing," the doctor interrupted him. "Maybe you should change your clothes before you go see her."

Faison glanced at the pile of fresh clothes Olga had placed on the drawer. "Yes."

The doctor was right. He couldn't go in and see Anna while his clothes were still covered in her blood.

_Paris, France_

_Auberge Augustin_

_-_

Sean looked at Dan O'Toole in disbelief.

"You found a WSB agent snooping around Robin's apartment?"

"That's what Emile said," O'Toole told him. Emile Guerin, a veteran WSB agent, was one of the men who'd been on the Pont D'Arcole with them, the night that everything went wrong. An old acquaintance of Sean's whom he didn't have to ask to keep an eye on Robin Scorpio. He had volunteered.

"As if it couldn't get weirder, apparently her ID isn't from a local office. It's from Kinshasa."

"Kinshasa, _Africa_?" Anna asked, puzzled.

"That's right. Kinshasa, in what was formerly Zaire, now the DRC, short for the Democratic Republic of the Congo," Dan nodded. "So, then, of course, Emile takes her in to Robin's apartment. Tries to get her to spill. Without much luck. She tells him that she was following a lead she had on you."

"_Me_?" Anna asked. "I don't get it…why would she be spying on me?"

"Exactly. Strange, isn't it?" O'Toole agreed. "Naturally Emile then contacts the Kinshasa office to get the facts and he reaches a man by the name of Clive Sampson, regional ops director of the Central African bureau, who, believe it or not, backed up her story."

Sean narrowed his brows, shocked. "Why in the world would an agent from Africa be trailing you, Anna?"

"I think we should head over to Robin's place and have a chat with this lady," Dan offered.

"Wait…where's Robin now?" Anna asked, concerned.

"The first thing Emile did, after he restrained our spy was check on Robin. Apparently she's at your place," O'Toole informed Anna. "With David and Leah. Emile told her to stay put for the time being and he put another guard there."

"Good thinking," Anna murmured with relief.

"You stay here," Sean told her, putting on the grey suit jacket that hung over the back of a chair. "While Dan and I head over to Robin's place."

"I don't think so. I'm coming with you."

"No way, sweetheart. If there's a chance this woman's working with Faison, the last thing we want is for her to see you," Sean countered.

"We're talking about _my_ daughter, Sean! She was at Robin's apartment. If Robin's in danger I need to know what I'm up against."

"I agree with Sean, I don't think you should go, Devane."

Anna eyed both of them. "If there's a chance this woman _is_ working for Faison and the WSB, it means she could know where Alex is. It means we _have_ to hang on to her and get her to talk."

"We're quite capable of doing that," Sean pointed out.

"I know that, but if this woman knows where my sister is, I _need_ to see her!"

"You need to try and beat it out of her, is what you're trying to say," Sean corrected her.

Anna rolled her eyes, as she eyed his bloody lip. "You're one to talk."

Sean's serious expression didn't fade. "I'd rather you stay here and rest for a while."

Anna glared at him, hating the questioning look _that_ suggestion elicited from Dan O'Toole. "I said, I'm _fine_. I'm coming with you."

O'Toole eyed them both. "Fine. Just lay low to start, until we get a better feel for our intruder." He turned around to grab his jacket, then stopped, a sudden thought occuring to him. "What about Marick?"

"Who cares about Dimitri," Sean mumbled. "If he wants to take off in an angry huff, let him come back to find the place empty."

"I'll call him on his cell," Anna said, her look telling him to let it go. "I'll tell him we're investigating a lead and we'll be in touch."

Sean frowned, putting an arm on her shoulder, as she got ready to leave. "Whatever."

_Alexei Estate_

_North of Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Cesar Faison quietly opened the door and saw her lying on the bed, eyes half closed.

Thick white bandages covered one side of her head, masking the purple bruise that was starting to inch out from behind the white fabric. An ice-pack was draped around her left wrist and Faison thought he saw an indentation underneath her blanket, where Thorpe had bandaged her thigh.

He swallowed.

'I can't do this…' he thought. 'She's hurt because of that fence. Because of that monstrosity I installed…' Guilt tore at him, as it always did when he knew he'd hurt her. It was another reason he knew that Anna was the_ one_. Because she was the only person in the world one whose pain he felt as vividly as though it were his own.

The nurse, Viktor, got up as Faison entered. "Sir, will you stay with her a moment while I speak with Doctor Thorpe?" he asked him in Russian. He was young, blonde and blue eyed. His boyish face wore a gentle expression that didn't seem fitting for a mafia doctor's assistant. "Please?"

Faison shook his head.

He couldn't do this. Couldn't face her.

Faison turned around and shut the door behind him.

Not yet.

_Robin's Apartment_

_Paris, France_

_-_

Sitting in a desk chair, hands tied behind her back, Sandrine Mutanga cursed herself.

'Stupid, stupid, stupid…' she repeated in her mind. 'Robert would be furious,' she thought. 'Furious that in trying to help find him, I was as a careless as a complete amateur. I should have known that Robin's apartment would be guarded after Faison kidnapped Anna. I should have been prepared. Even worse, she had carried her ID on her. Whoever this man was that had taken her prisoner would now check up on her, and of course if he reached Sampson she wouldn't even get a chance to give him her side of the story. Beyond stupid,' she cursed herself.

The Frenchman, who had jumped her near the apartment's entrance and subdued her with frightening ease, walked back into Robin's living room now, interrupting her thoughts.

"Well, Agent Mutanga, it looks like you're actually telling the truth," he told her in French. "The regional director of the WSB's Central African division tells me you're here on a transfer. He wouldn't give me any details over the phone but he says part of your assignment includes surveillance on Anna Devane."

Sandrine's eyes widened. _Sampson had backed her story?_ She took in a deep relieved breath. 'At what cost?' she wondered, shuddering, remembering his thick fingers running along her breast. 'What exactly am I going to owe him for this?'

It wasn't something she wanted to think about at this very moment.

Instead, she flashed the man a triumphant smile. "Of course I told you the truth. Now if you don't mind uncuffing me…"

The man chuckled. "Not so fast. There are some others that want to have a chat with you."

As if on cue, the sound of keys opening the apartment's door made Sandrine turn her head.

Two men entered. The older one had salt and pepper hair and a serious expression. His most arresting feature was a swollen and bloody lower lip, making him look as though he had just come from a fistfight. The younger man had thin red hair and wire-rimmed glasses that framed a sharp, intelligent gaze. He looked like a businessman, or an accountant maybe.

"So that's your spy?" the older man asked the man who had taken her prisoner. He had an American accent and he seemed oblivious to his swollen lip. The younger one with the red hair observed her with curiosity.

"Yes, allow me to introduce Sandrine Mutanga." The Frenchman suddenly switched to English, for the benefit of the two men.

"Sean Donely," the older man introduced himself as he walked over to her. "WSB."

Sandrine studied him, suddenly remembering something Robert once told her when they were in the jungle and he was stripping a branch of wood with the Swiss Army knife he never left home without.

"_It was a gift from my old friend, Sean." _

'I wonder if it's possible that you're _that_ Sean,' Sandrine thought. The man was about Robert's age, perhaps slightly older. It was as though she was entering Robert's old world and it felt strange and out of place and fascinating all at once.

"I would extend my hand to you and introduce myself properly," Sandrine replied. "But unfortunately I'm not in a position to do that."

Sean smiled, contorting his bloody lip. It was an unthreatening, amused smile. "Emile says you have something to tell us."

"I don't understand why I'm being treated like a thief," Sandrine started. "I work for the World Security Bureau. I'm on _your_ side. I was trailing Anna Devane and when I was unable to find her, I did what any agent would do…I went to stake out her daughter's apartment."

"Why would the WSB have Anna on surveillance?"

Sandrine frowned. "You're asking me to give you case sensitive information. I'm afraid I can't do that."

Sean shook his head disappointedly, the amusement gone. "Stop lying. Tell me why and how long."

Sandrine blushed. "Ten months," she told him. "The WSB has been keeping an eye on Anna Scorpio for almost ten months."

"_Why?"_ Sean pressed.

Sandrine wriggled in her seat. Her arms were starting to cramp. It was an uncomfortable feeling that reminded her of the time she was held hostage by rebel guerrillas in her homeland. 'A time I wouldn't be able to remember today, if it wasn't for Robert,' she thought. The information she was giving Sean was as close to the truth as she could allow. If Sean Donely were going to do a genuine investigation he would discover that the WSB indeed had agents trailing Anna Devane, as Robert had insisted. It would be just enough to correlate with the tale she was about to spin. 'Pointless agents, sent here to send him those damn photographs,' Sandrine thought glumly. 'Endless reminders of the woman, and the life, he left behind.'

"_Why_ was the WSB trailing Anna?" Sean repeated impatiently. "Or am I asking too quickly for you to make up an answer?"

Sandrine scowled. "You're asking me questions like an interrogator. Without assuring me that I can trust you. Why should I tell you anything? You've already confirmed my credentials…I know nothing about yours."

Sandrine watched as Sean turned to the man named Emile.

"You're saying a regional director with the WSB confirmed that this woman is here on assignment?" she heard Sean ask him. "And we have photographic confirmation this woman is agent Sandrine Mutanga?"

Emile nodded. "Yes."

"Alright, Agent Mutanga. Let me tell you what _my_ objectives are and then you can decide whether you can trust us with your so-called facts," Sean said, turning his attention back to her. He flashed his WSB identification in front of her. "I've been with the Bureau for over two decades. Anna Devane is a good friend of mine and when someone snoops around her daughter's apartment, I want to know why. No hidden agendas. Just friendly concern. If you tell me why, I'll gladly let you go. I'll even apologize for how we treated you."

Sandrine frowned. "Fair enough. If you ask me that as one agent to another, I will tell you _exactly_ why I'm here. But not while I am sitting her with my hands tied behind my back, like a criminal."

Sean appeared to consider her words, turning to the red-haired man this time.

"Between the three of us hovering over her, I'd say it's safe to untie her," the younger man answered.

Sandrine felt Emile undoing the handcuffs that held her hands together, and then the rope that tied her to the chair. As soon as she was free she rubbed her hands together, hoping it would restore their circulation.

"Now tell us what you're doing here," Sean demanded.

"First tell me who you two are," she replied, looking at the younger man and the Frenchman.

The red haired man pulled out an identification badge. "Daniel O'Toole, Scotland Yard, Parisian liaison for Interpol."

The Frenchman flashed an ID badge in front of her as well. "Emile Guerin, WSB."

Sean losing his patience. "Your turn, Agent Mutanga."

Sandrine took a deep breath. "I'm here because I'm investigating a man by the name of Cesar Faison."

"Cesar Faison?" Sean's interest was obvious.

"Two years ago my partner and I began work on a case involving an illegal diamond trade that flows from the Congo to various European capitals. Diamonds that are exchanged for the weapons that fuel our civil wars," Sandrine explained. "Conflict diamonds, as you call them. As our investigation progressed, we began tracing diamond transactions back to one man's name, under what we believe were a series of aliases. That name was Cesar Faison."

Sean said nothing, allowing her to continue.

"We started to investigate Cesar Faison's history. We found out about his creation of a counter-intelligence agency known as the DVX. One name kept coming up in our research: Anna Devane." Sandrine's hands itched as their circulation returned to normal. "We found out that Anna used to work as a double agent for the DVX. She was also one of only a handful of agents for whom the WSB issued a Black Box order. We learned that Agent Devane almost died in a suspicious tanker explosion, off the coast of South America, at a time when the Bureau thought she had switched sides again."

Sean frowned. "I certainly hope your final findings were more accurate than that."

Sandrine sensed that she'd somehow offended him. "I know that Anna Devane was cleared of all her charges. That the Black Box order was rescinded and that after almost a decade of being presumed dead, Agent Devane went on to become Chief of Police of a small, mid-western American city, called Pine Valley."

"So then why follow Anna, if you're investigating Cesar Faison? Obviously she no longer has anything to do with him."

Sean was protective of Anna, Sandrine noticed. Maybe he was more than just a 'concerned friend.'

"Maybe I wanted to confirm that with her in person," she challenged him.

Sean loosened his tie. "I'm sorry to disappoint you Agent Mutanga. Anna can't help you find Cesar Faison."

Sandrine hoped the next words he said would be the ones she was waiting for.

_Anna can't help you because she's been kidnapped by the very man you're looking for._

Then she would offer to pool her resources with his, in their search for Cesar Faison's whereabouts. It was simple. Under the pretext of helping them find Anna, they would help her find Robert.

Instead, Sean threw her WSB ID back into her lap. "Before you leave here today, I have a word of advice for you, Agent Mutanga, where Cesar Faison is concerned. Be careful…be _very_ careful."

Sandrine slid her ID back into her pocket. "I'm not leaving until I see Anna Devane!" She was about to say something else, when Sandrine caught Sean giving O'Toole man a signal.

Before she was aware of what was transpiring between them, Dan had already hoisted her out of the chair, pushed her across the room and pinned her against the wall. A searing pain shot up her right arm as he contorted it behind her back.

"Alright. Enough games. Tell us who you really are!"

Sandrine made an attempt to fight him off bit it only increased the pain shooting down the nerve endings of her back.

"I _told_ you the truth," she gasped, face pressed against the wall.

"You seem unusually motivated for an agent merely doing a routine investigation."

"I'm telling you the truth," Sandrine repeated. Her voice was a whisper and tears rolled down her eyes as the pain extended through every inch of her body.

Sean Donely had inched next to her, his eyes icy and indifferent. "_Why_ are you here?" he repeated.

O'Toole was unrelenting. Her arm felt as though it was being ripped from its socket and Sandrine was certain she'd pass out if he didn't let go soon.

"My partner…" she managed, feeling the wetness of her tears running over her lips.

"Your _what_?" Dan pressed.

"My partner…_my partner is missing_…" her vision clouded and she wondered whether she'd said the words in English or French, and just as she thought she couldn't bear it any longer, Dan released his hold and Sandrine slid down the wall.

She wrapped her arms around her body, trying to control the spasms that wracked it.

Her face was a mask of pain and fury.

_This_ was the very last thing she had expected.

"You sick bastard…" she cursed and managed a well-placed kick right into Dan O'Toole's shins.

Aside from shifting to keep his balance, he barely reacted. "You were saying something about a partner?"

Sandrine massaged her sore arm. Oddly enough, the pain, unbearable only moments ago, was fading fast and barely perceptible now.

She glared at O'Toole. Her story would have to change. "My partner was investigating a lead we had…and he disappeared."

"Who's your partner?"

Sandrine took a deep breath. "A man named Roger Saunders." She watched as O'Toole raised an eyebrow at Emile. They would no doubt verify _that_ within minutes.

Sean eyed her with amusement once again. "He's more than your partner, isn't he?"

Sandrine cringed. Obviously acting wasn't her finest skill. Either that or her eyes were as transparent as glass. "And Anna's more than your friend!" she shot back angrily.

Sean smiled, unaffected by her observation. "You're right. She is. Anna was younger than you when I first met her. I've known her for most of my life. If I sense that you're a threat to her, I suggest you watch your back."

"Look…I don't know why you think I'm a threat to you but I came here because I'm trying to find my partner. I'm on your team and I'm trying to find anyone and everyone who could help me get to Cesar Faison…" Sandrine wiped away the last of her angry tears.

"But you're not doing it through official channels because the Bureau wouldn't help you do something so reckless on your own!" Sean's face softened and for the first time Sandrine sensed he was starting to believe her.

Emile interrupted them. "I just phoned Sampson back. He verified that Roger Saunders is a senior agent working out of Kinshasa."

"I thought that Anna Devane might have known Cesar Faison better than anyone else…that's why I came to look for her."

Sean extended her his hand, to help her off the floor. An offer she refused.

"Anna didn't know Faison any better than you or I, and she can't help you."

"I think you're wrong…I think she _can_ help me…" Sandrine demanded, standing back up on unsteady legs. _'When the hell are you going to tell me she's missing, you lying, conniving...'_

Sean took a final look at her, then at Dan O'Toole, interrupting her thoughts. "Wait here..." was all he told her before turning to leave the apartment.

"What is he doing?" she demanded looking at the other two men, hoping they didn't catch the fear in her voice.

They answered her question with a stone-faced silence and it felt like an eternity before the apartment's door opened once more.

Sandrine stared in its direction, ready for anything but that which she saw.

She gasped at the sight in front of her, thinking surely her eyes were playing tricks on her.

It was impossible.

The woman entering the room alongside Sean Donely was none other than Anna Devane.

_Alexei Estate, _

_North of Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Alex caught Faison entering her room just as the young, blond nurse started telling her all about a play he'd seen in Moscow last week. An American Broadway-style musical with dancers dressed as Egyptians.

Alex knew what he was doing. Knew that in his pleasant, haphazard mix of Russian and English he was trying to keep her awake, in spite of the sedative effects of the pain medication the English doctor had given her earlier.

"You are ready now, sir?" she vaguely heard the nurse ask Cesar Faison in Russian.

"_Da."_

Alex felt her eyelids close and when her willpower re-opened them, she saw the nurse was gone and that Faison sat at her bedside in his place.

"Go away," she mumbled, surprised at the monumental effort the two words required. She tried to shut his image out of her mind, but inevitably her gaze landed on his face, catching a mixture of guilt and concern and sadness there.

"Snowflake…is he okay?" she asked.

Faison looked at her, uncomprehending.

"The horse…is the horse alright?" Alex didn't bother to consider whether that would've been Anna's first question. _She_ had to know whether she'd hurt the animal in her reckless jump.

"Yes," Faison assured her. "Yes, he's fine. Not a scratch."

Alex sighed, relieved. "Good."

"Doctor Thorpe said you probably have a concussion," Faison said softly, "That you shouldn't fall asleep yet."

"I don't have a concussion," she whispered back.

Faison reached for her hand. "You don't know that, my love. You're not a doctor."

"I _do_ know," she told him. Thanks to the whatever drugs the English doctor had given her, the searing pain that had made her cry as he'd stitched her thigh was replaced by a dull discomfort. Her head no longer felt as though it might burst from the pounding inside. Now it merely hurt in a way that affected her vision, clouding it one moment and lending movement to sedentary objects the next. Instead of pain, she now felt an exhaustion so profound, she wanted nothing more than to give in to it.

Yet, at the same time, the physician in her had no doubts that she did have a concussion. 'And if that's what Thorpe believes, given Anna's previous injuries, as a doctor...he would have to insist on further tests…' Tests that would immediately determine that, unlike Anna, she had no history of head trauma.

Medical tests that would expose her with absolute certainty.

"It's like a bee sting," Alex told Faison, using her uninjured arm to push herself off her pillow. "Once you've had one, you can tell the difference between that and a mosquito bite."

"I won't take the risk," Faison said gently, using both of his hands to ease her back down onto the pillow. "Doctor Thorpe is right. You should be in a hospital. First thing tomorrow morning…"

"No…" Alex cut him off. "No hospital."

"Anna, if there's internal bleeding…" he tried.

She didn't let him go there. Wouldn't let _herself_. "No hospital," she repeated firmly.

Faison's facial lines deepened as he imagined the unthinkable. If anything more were to happen to her, he would never forgive himself. He couldn't live with it. "I know you don't want to, but it's necessary. I'll stay at your side the entire time, I promise you."

He didn't expect her to reach up and grab his clean, crisp shirt.

"Please," she repeated, her clouded eyes boring into his. "It's all I'm asking you for, to grant me one damn request. No hospital. _Please_."

It was an impossible decision. The woman he loved was begging him to honour a simple wish. How could he refuse her in the state she was in?

"I'm afraid for you, Anna," he admitted. Faison could never have envisioned being this honest with anyone else. Nor could he imagine confessing his weaknesses so openly to anyone else. He took her sprained wrist into his hand, cradling it, as though his touch could somehow heal it. "I couldn't lose you again…"

The corner of her lips lifted into an unexpected smile. "If you promise me no hospital…I'll promise not to die on you."

"This isn't funny, Anna." Faison didn't return her smile. "I won't let you."

"Promise me," she repeated.

Faison ran a soft, silent hand along her cheek. "Fine. I promise…no hospital."

Alex closed her eyes thankful that he wasn't harder to manipulate. 'Dimitri would never have given in so easily,' she thought, the smile still on her lips.

She felt him squeeze her hand.

"You should stay awake for now, my love," he said softly. "Just in case."

Alex knew he was right. The bells were still peeling inside her skull, making her nauseous now.

Faison pulled a chequered wooden board seemingly out of nowhere. "I thought this might help."

Chess.

Alex eyed it tiredly. 'Did Anna play chess?' She vaguely remembered there being a chessboard at the cabin in Ontario. It would make sense. It seemed like her sister's kind of tactical game. 'I hope you're as bad at it as I am,' Alex thought. 'But at least it doesn't involve conversation.'

Faison took out the pieces, setting them up on the bed, next to her, and then he adjusted her pillows to help her sit up.

The movement worsened her nausea and Alex held a hand over her mouth.

"I think I'm going to be sick…"

"No you're not." Faison shook his head, placing a calm, flat palm on her stomach. "Lean back and take a deep, slow breath."

Alex did as he said, not wanting to dehydrate herself further by throwing up.

"Again," he said softly. He voice took on a nearly hypnotic tone. "Let the sensation wash over you."

This time Alex felt his hand brush a strand of hair off her face as the nausea slowly subsided. How was it possible that someone so brutal could also be… gentle?

Faison looked relieved. "Good…once more."

"I'm fine now…" Alex mumbled, pushing his hands off her. "It's passed."

Faison gave her an admiring smile. "You don't know your own strength, Anna."

Alex wasn't sure what he meant by that. Nor did she care. She pointed tiredly to the chessboard. "I see the game is set…are you ready to play?"

_Kremlin Armouries, _

_Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Moise Ngoma stood in front of the glass enclosed Faberge egg and admired it.

The multi-lingual plaque said something about it being a gift from Tsar Nicholas to his wife, Alexandra, to celebrate his family's three-hundred years of rule.

It was opulent and laden with tiny, perfect golden details. Moise was sure his wife would have loved it, even if it wouldn't fit anywhere in their modest one-bedroom apartment. He pictured her now, seven months pregnant with their third child. She had been angry with him when he told her he had to leave Kinshasa, for an unspecified amount of time, as part of his assignment.

Moise wished he could have told her he was going to Moscow, with one of the most senior agents in the Bureau. It was an assignment worth boasting about and yet he had to keep it secret.

This wasn't just any assignment. Working with someone like Roger Saunders was considered a privilege. _An honour_.

At first Moise was afraid that he wouldn't be able to keep up with Saunders. After all he'd barely been with the Bureau two years and Saunders had a reputation for demanding perfection and absolute commitment from all his agents. To say that Saunders was driven would have been an understatement. Moise had beenprepared for next to no sleep on this mission.

And yet here he was sightseeing at the Kremlin. Looking at a hundred year old egg, after a late, leisurely breakfast in his hotel room.

"_I need you to lay low in Moscow while I scope out our target," Saunders had told him and his partner, after arriving in Russia's capital._

"_Lay low?" It had sounded like a line from a film. _

"_Go sightseeing. Explore the city. Whatever you do, just make an effort to blend in. Pretend you're a tourist," Saunders had told him. "Have the satellite phone on you at all times and wait for my instructions." _

The instructions had left him with a dumbstruck expression on his face, yet he did precisely that. Along with his quiet partner, Albert, Moise had gone to Red Square and lined up for hours to visit Lenin's Tomb. He'd walked through the elaborate arcade of the GUM department store. He rode the subway and admired the colourful mosaics at the various stops, before getting off near Gorki Park, where he bought cotton candy from a rusty vendor cart and watched couples kissing on park benches, while fat, smiling _babushkas_ walked by with baby strollers.

After more than one week, his partner, Albert, was starting to get bored. Restless.

There had been no word from Saunders yet.

"_I'm getting worried," Albert had told him. _

"_He's the best in the Bureau," Moise had reassured him. "He said to try and establish contact only after two weeks without word." _

"_What is he planning?" Albert wondered, his thin face lined with concern._

_Moise had shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever it is, he will let us know. Let's visit the Kremlin Armouries today." _

"_I don't want to play tourist anymore. This is ridiculous. Go by yourself."_

Moise didn't understand Albert's impatience. God laid out everything according to His schedule. It wasn't up to them to alter it. That was what his mother had always told him and Moise didn't doubt her.

Now as he stared at the Faberge egg, he wished his salary would afford him an evening at the Bolshoi ballet. 'Sleeping Beauty' was being performed there tonight. Moise had checked the arts guide in his hotel room. He could just imagine his oldest daughter's face widen with envy as he would tell her about the pretty ballerinas he had seen.

Nine-year-old Celeste loved to ballet dancers on television. Sometimes she'd twirl around in a white, chiffon skirt afterwards.

The image brought a smile to his face and he didn't hear his partner approach.

"Did you hear me?" Albert repeated. "He called."

"What?"

"Agent Saunders just contacted me. He's ready to make his move. He needs us."


	31. Chapter 31

Note to my readers: Apologies that it took me forever to put up this chapter! Life got hectic for a while. Next one will hopefully be up sooner. :)

-

**Chapter 31**

_Robin's Apartment, Paris, France_

_- _

Sandrine stared at her in shock.

It was Anna. There was no doubt about it. She looked exactly like she the woman in the photo that Robert had shown her. Older yes, but unmistakeably similar.

Yet it couldn't be.

Anna approached her soundlessly, her dark eyes studying her, soaking in every detail. "I heard everything you said," Anna started. Her gaze softened. "I'm sorry that we treated you to the way we did."

Sandrine said nothing, unable to keep from staring. Not understanding what was going on. Had someone rescued Anna before Robert got to her? Or did she get away from Faison on her own? _Was she ever kidnapped?_

"Please understand that we had to be absolutely sure you that you aren't working for Cesar Faison. We have too much at stake not to be extra careful."

"Anna…" Sean warned. "Don't."

"You're not the only one with something at stake," Sandrine answered, testing her voice.

"You said your partner's missing," Anna said.

"Yes." Sandrine took a deep breath. _'Because of you,' _she wanted to add. "He was following a lead and he wouldn't allow me to join him. I think he knew that he was getting close. He was afraid… for me."

Sandrine noticed that the three men in the room were silent now, observing Anna as she questioned her.

"Where?"

"He left Kinshasa over a week ago."

"And you have no idea where his lead could have taken him?" Anna probed.

Sandrine shook her head. Telling the truth was always easier than making up a lie.

"Faison has countless homes and phoney cover businesses throughout the world," Sean pointed out. "Why come here, to Paris, to look for your partner?"

The sarcasm in his voice irritated Sandrine. "I told you, we linked Anna to Faison and I thought she might be able to help."

"I'm sorry you've wasted your time, Agent Mutanga, but I can't help you find Cesar Faison," Anna said softly. "If I knew where he was I'd _gladly_ tell you."

Sandrine shook her head in disbelief. Nothing made sense anymore. "But you knew him well once…" she tried, grasping at straws.

Anna nodded, "I did. A long time ago."

Sean put a hand on her shoulder. "Sweetheart, there's no need for explanations."

Sandrine watched as Anna turned to Sean.

"I'd like to speak to Agent Mutanga alone, if you don't mind. I'd like to have her help us on this."

Sean looked at Anna with obvious disagreement and Sandrine had trouble understanding what he was whispering to her in English. "Whatever information she has on Faison," she heard him say. "I can request from the Kinshasa bureau with or without her permission…there's no reason to tell her anything else."

"If she's trying to find her partner, I'd _like_ to have her permission."

"Anna we don't know enough about…"

"Please…" Sandrine heard Anna insist and to her surprise Sean relented. Sandrine watched as he left the room, motioning for the other two men to do the same.

Without the three men hovering over her every gesture, Sandrine relaxed. That was, she suspected, exactly what Anna wanted.

"I'm sorry," Anna told her. "Sean can be protective of his friends." She pointed towards the sofa. "Please, why don't you sit down, Sandrine. May I call you Sandrine?"

"If I can call you Anna."

She smiled. "Yes. Of course."

Anna was still beautiful, Sandrine observed. Her eyes and smile were warm and her face was draped by the kind of long, soft hair that Sandrine could only dream of.

Next to the other three men, Anna had commanded a presence that was larger than her frame warranted. Sitting next to her now, Sandrine realized she was small. Even with the heels Anna wore, Sandrine figured she was a full head taller than her. She wore a black top that seemed a size too big for her. As if she'd lost weight since she'd bought it. Dark shadows lined the bottom of her eyes.

She looked exhausted.

'Whether or not you got away from Faison, you've been through _something_ recently. Something that's still affecting you.'

In spite of it, there was nothing fragile about Anna Devane and Sandrine wondered whether she'd emerge victorious if there were a physical confrontation between them.

'Maybe that's why Sean didn't hesitate to leave you alone here with me,' Sandrine thought.

"You knew Cesar Faison well, didn't you?" Sandrine prodded.

"I briefly worked for him as a double agent, when he was head of the DVX. I was young and dumb then and I craved the sort of excitement that the bureaucracy of the WSB wasn't giving me. Getting to know Faison as well as I did was never my intention."

"But you _did_ get to know him very well, is what you're saying?"

"I did."

"You were lovers," Sandrine asked, gauging Anna's reaction. 'And if you were, did Robert know?' she wanted to add.

Anna raised her brows. "You're very direct."

Sandrine blushed. She'd pushed the envelope and instead of turning defensive Anna had turned the tables. "People tell me that, yes."

"No, we weren't lovers."

She said it as though the idea repulsed her.

"Since I've known him, Cesar Faison has had a strange belief that we share a bond of sorts, that we're connected somehow and ultimately meant to be together." Anna went on, "He believes that we're soul mates. That the fact that I willingly joined the DVX when I was young is proof of that."

"But you're not," Sandrine finished for her.

"No." Anna told her. She said it too quickly, Sandrine wondered whether Anna Devane was telling her everything. "But you _do_ know him, like few people do," Sandrine pressed.

"Sandrine, please believe me when I say that I can't help you find him."

Anna said the words like she meant them, yet Sandrine knew it _couldn't_ be the truth. The exhaustion after her interrogation, combined with her jet lag mounted her frustration.

Anna had to know _something_. Or had Robert's informant led him into a trap? Had Anna never actually been threatened by Faison?

"Tell me about your partner," Anna asked her.

Sandrine shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Part of her wanted to yell his name out loud. If only so that it would finally elicit a halfway truthful answer from Anna, or Sean. Yet it was the thought of Robin that made her bite her tongue. The thought of announcing to Robert's daughter that her father wasn't dead, when it might no longer be the truth.

_'How can I tell Robin about you, when I have no idea whether you're alright? How much would it hurt your daughter to find out you were alive all this time, only to lose you again now? Before she's had a chance to see you?'_

"My partner is a good man," was all she said. "And your friend Sean was right. Roger is more than a partner to me."

Sandrine's felt Anna's hand on her arm.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "You love him, don't you?"

Sandrine felt her eyes water. It wasn't the reaction she expected. "Yes. Very much." Anna handed her a tissue, which Sandrine accepted gratefully. "_You _are also very direct."

This time Anna's hand squeezed hers. "So I've been told."

Sandrine wanted to dislike this woman. By all accounts Anna should have been her adversary. Yet the only thing she felt towards her was an odd sense of kinship. 'You're the only one who can take him away from me, Anna. You and Faison.'

"There is something else though, something that Sean didn't tell you…" Anna started, hesitating, as though debating whether to say what she was about to. "Sean didn't tell you that we're also searching for Faison."

"Why?" Sandrine asked, puzzled once more.

"He has my sister."

"Your sister?" Sandrine didn't understand. Robert didn't mention that Anna had any siblings, but then again, why would he have?

"Several months ago, Cesar Faison came back into my life," Anna explained. "He started to stalk me, with letters, gifts, e-mails…you name it. He reminded me once again that we belong together."

Sandrine swallowed, thinking. 'So that's when Faison broke the deal he made with Robert, deciding either that Robert was no longer a threat or that the consequences were worth it.'

"One day he took it a step farther," Anna explained. "He infected my baby daughter with a virus, and then offered to cure her if I met with him, on a bridge, here in Paris."

Sandrine hung on every word.

So it _was_ true. Faison _had_ attempted to kidnap her. Robert's informant had told him the truth, most likely leaving out the details in the process. The thought of Faison using a baby as leverage made Sandrine shiver.

Then another thought entered her mind. _'My baby daughter…' _

_Had Anna remarried? Did Robert know?_

"But that night, I wasn't…"

Sandrine watched her fish for the words.

"I wasn't… _able_ to meet with him. So my sister decided to take my place."

Another dozen thoughts raced through Sandrine's mind. Anna wasn't able to meet with him _why_? Was there more to her thin frame and tired glance than Sandrine originally suspected? _Was she ill?_

"Your sister?" Sandrine looked at her in disbelief, wanting to laugh at the absurdity of what she just said. "But Faison would know right away it wasn't you…"

Anna shook her head. "No…not necessarily. You see my sister Alex and I are identical twins."

This time Sandrine couldn't help the gasp that escaped her lips.

_Identical twins?_

How could something so incredile and unlikely have everything make sense again?

Everything Robert had found out from his informant _was_ true. Anna _had_ been in danger and had been about to be kidnapped. Everything was true except for one small detail.

Anna wasn't the one who was kidnapped.

Sandrine slowly exhaled as the bizarre truth dawned on her.

The man she loved had no idea that he had gone to rescue the wrong woman.

_Near Alexei Estate, _

_North of Moscow, Russia_

_-_

"Are you cold?" Robert Scorpio asked Moise Ngoma. The African's teeth were chattering in the chill spring night.

"No, sir. Not at all," was the reply. He adjusted the band that wrapped the night vision goggles tightly around his head.

Robert noticed the man's hand was shaking, making him frown. "Are you nervous, Agent Ngoma?"

"No, sir."

Robert clenched his teeth. "It's okay. Nervous is alright," he told him. "Nervous makes you careful. It's not the same as fear, which paralyses you."

Moise Ngoma's teeth glistened in the darkness. "Then you are right. I am nervous."

Robert was nervous as well.

This was it. After almost two weeks of staking out his target's lair, he was ready.

Robert knew exactly when the front gate guards changed shifts, how many were guarding the estate tonight, what they looked like and how many dogs they had. He knew how to disable the cameras that monitored the fence they were about to scale. He knew where the power box was located should they need to shut down the estate's power.

A rented black Mercedes Benz, the same vehicle his agents had used to travel here, was hidden less a kilometre from where they now stood, in a wooded area, close to the security fence. It was their getaway vehicle.

In short, Robert knew the layout of the estate like the back of his hand, making the night vision goggles he wore almost redundant.

He knew everything he needed to know except where precisely to find Faison and Anna.

'Once we get inside, we start from scratch…'

Robert glanced at the other agent. Thin, quiet Albert St. Jaques.

"Tell me exactly what we're going to do," Robert asked, testing them for the third time tonight.

Albert cleared his throat. "We disable the two cameras closest to us, using the electric rod. Then we take the wire mesh blanket and throw it over the fence, allowing us to scale it."

Robert nodded. "And then?"

"Disabling the cameras will trigger an alarm in the security office next to the estate's main gate," Albert continued. "Two security officers, along with two guard dogs, will come by to investigate. By the time they arrive, we will already be inside the grounds."

Unlike Moise's, Albert's voice had no hesitation as he recounted the plan step by step. "As soon as we spot them, we use the tranquilliser rifles on them."

Each of them were equipped with modified tranquilliser rifles, not unlike the ones wealthy hunters used on African safaris. Weapons that Robert had his agents acquire with surprising ease in the thriving black market in Moscow. In addition each of them carried a semi-automatic, silencer-equipped handgun. "Not killing them gives them a chance to radio for back-up, while we wait for the tranquilliser to take effect."

Albert said the last words with a hint of frustration. Robert knew that the African didn't understand his reluctance to use actual bullets. After all, all battles ended up with casualties, why should this be any different?

Because this was Rpbert's battle. No one else's.

"You don't use the semis unless your lives are in danger, is that clear? Aside from the primary target I don't want any loss of life tonight."

Robert knew that using the tranquilliser rifles was adding to the risk of their operation. The tranquilliser capsules were unpredictable and their effects varied with the height, weight and physical condition of each target they hit. Still, Robert couldn't justify killing the guards simply because they were in his way, doing what they were paid to do.

"Once the guards are subdued we head for the east door. An employees entrance that you believe leads to the estate's kitchen," Albert continued. "Which will likely be unlocked."

"And if not?" Robert pressed him.

"You break the lock with your semi," Albert finished.

"That's when it gets dangerous. Once we're inside," Moise Ngoma added, visualizing the operation. "Because we don't know what room Anna Devane is in, and we don't know what room our target is in. We could find either one first."

"Or they could find us," Robert reminded them. "Given the time, I'm hoping we'll find everyone asleep but there's a chance they won't be. Should we encounter any of his staff, I doubt they'll be any threat once they see that we're armed. But as soon as you see someone I want them contained with the tranquilliser gun, is that understood? I need you to be my shield so I can focus on finding Anna."

Moise smiled, his white teeth glistening again. "We will protect you."

Robert nodded. "If anything goes wrong…if I go down and your lives are threatened I want you both to get out of here. Use the semis and do whatever it takes but _get out! _Is that also understood?"

Moise's smile darkened. "We won't leave without…"

"This isn't an official mission," Robert cut him off. "I'm giving you orders right now to leave me behind and save your lives if it should come down to that. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

Robert eyed them both, growing tense, as he always did just before going into action. It was a nervousness that he hid well and one that no one, not even Sandrine, knew about.

In fact, he was known for his nerves of steel, a trait that had garnered Roger Saunders more than his share of admirers in the Kinshasa office, including the two young men that stood next to him now. It wasn't that he possessed a natural confidence, merely an exceptional skill for hiding his fears.

'After all, if a commanding officer doesn't look like he has confidence in his mission, how the hell can he inspire the agents following him?'

'But this is different,' he thought. 'This isn't a mission with a greater good. It's revenge. Personal revenge for the life that was taken from me.'

There would be no justification if anything were to happen to the men under his command. Not tonight.

'And that's not the only thing making you nervous,' he told himself, taking a final glance at the tall gas lamps that illuminated the estate's entrance, like eerie beacons of light in the surrounding darkness. 'The hundreds of little things that could go wrong are nothing compared to the fact that I'll see Anna again tonight.'

"After all this time," he whispered the words aloud as he double-checked his tranquilliser rifle. 'How is she going to react? To see me in Faison's estate, in the middle of the night, after thinking I was dead all this time?'

Robert felt a lump in his throat. 'What if he drugged you? Would you fight me, Anna?'

"All equipment has been double checked," he heard Albert's voice interrupting his thoughts. "Moise and I are ready."

Robert nodded, pulling the black mask over his face, closing his eyes just long enough to see Sandrine's face flash by in front of him.

"Good," he replied, shutting the image from his mind as he inhaled.

Robert took another glance at the two men beside him before focusing his gaze on the security fence ahead of them, all while tightening his hand on his rifle.

"Alright. Let's do it."

_Auberge Augustin, Paris, France_

_-_

"Have you lost your mind?" Sean asked Anna, his brows narrow and angry. "You told her _everything_?"

"I told her we're looking for Faison because he kidnapped my sister, yes."

Sean clenched his teeth. "We don't know the first thing about this woman, Anna!"

Anna sank into the soft, yielding sofa, a cup of hot coffee in her hand. "You said her credentials checked out. She's WSB. She's been on Faison's case…this woman can _help _us, Sean."

Sean shook his head in disagreement. "The fact that she just stumbles into Robin's apartment with this information doesn't strike you as odd?"

Anna gave him a glance that told him she wasn't in the mood for explanations. "I spoke to her Sean. She's not lying."

"You know this _how_ exactly?"

"I just…" She raised her shoulders, exasperated. "I have a gut feeling. You know, like the ones you used to trust."

Sean stopped himself just short of rolling his eyes. "Look…do I trust your instincts, I always have. But in this case I'd love to have some more concrete evidence backing you up. Right now, I don't trust this Sandrine Mutanga."

Dan O'Toole emerged from the other room carrying a fax in his hand. "Looks like Devane's gut feeling might be right. I just got off the phone with the Kinshasa office. Everything Agent Mutanga told us checks out except…"

"Except _what_?" Sean prodded.

"Her partner…Roger Saunders. He has Level One clearance with the WSB."

"What's that?" Anna asked Dan, taking a sip of her coffee. The term didn't sound familiar.

"It means he's a senior agent," Sean answered for Dan. "_Very_ senior." He continued. "Level One clearance implies that the agent could be involved in sensitive under-cover work. Organized crime infiltration, long term double agent assignments… that sort of thing. An agent with Level One clearance has his identity protected, even from fellow agents."

"Meaning?" Anna asked, not sure what he was implying.

"Meaning the WSB has blocked his files. Accessing them requires permission from a director of operations. No photographs, no personal details…no nothing for us to check up."

Anna shrugged her shoulders. "So Sandrine works with a senior agent whose records are off limits to us, _so what_? Doesn't that speak _for_ her rather than against her? Obviously the WSB sees a lot of potential in her to pair her up with a top gun."

Dan O'Toole nodded. "It does…it's just unusual. After all, Level One clearance is a pretty big deal isn't it?" He looked at Sean.

"Very few agents have that kind of clearance," Sean confirmed. "I didn't think any of them worked out of offices other than Washington, London and Paris."

"Either way. This guy is missing," Dan pointed out. "A fact that the Central African Director of Ops has confirmed."

Anna flashed Sean an I- told-you-so smile. "If that doesn't legitimize everything Sandrine has told us, I don't know what else could."

"So, you're on a first name basis with this woman already?"

This time Anna rolled her eyes.

"Look, for what it's worth I agree with you, Anna," Dan added. "I think this woman's telling us the truth. I'm going to make a few more calls as added insurance, but I have a feeling they'll only confirm what we've already been told."

"As if official records really tell us what's going on in a person's mind," Sean sighed, letting his shoulders drop, tired of trying to get his point across, as he watched Dan leave the room. "I hope so," he added softly. "For all of us. Especially for Alex."

He poured himself a cup of coffee from the machine, sitting down next to Anna after adding generous helpings of milk and sugar.

"Do you think for a moment I would have confided in Sandrine if something told me she could be working for Faison?" Anna asked him, irritated now. "We're talking about my _sister_, Sean!"

"I do trust your instincts, sweetheart…I just… let's just say _my _instincts are telling me that Sandrine is hiding something."

"_You're_ the one who put on her on the defensive," Anna accused him. "Look at how you interrogated her! She's wary of us right now. That's something I want to change, because I think if we pool our resources we might be able to get closer to Faison."

"You still don't think it's strange that she snooped around in Robin's backyard?"

"Faison and I share a history, whether I like it or not," Anna reminded him. "Any thorough investigation into his past would eventually turn up my name. I once worked for him and I was put under a Black Box order because off Faison… we supposedly _died_ together!"

Sean's expression grew sombre. "But you didn't."

"No." Anna took another sip of coffee, as she stared into space. "The only person who did die that day was the one person who shouldn't have," she mumbled bitterly.

Sean wanted to contradict her, wishing he could somehow come up with the words to help her get rid of all the guilt she still carried around ten years later. Guilt that still tormented her, even if she'd never admit it.

"What about her partner following this big lead without letting her in on it?" he pressed. "What does _that _say about her? Maybe even her partner didn't trust her anymore?"

"What if he did it simply because he saw the risk involved and didn't want to expose her to it?" Anna countered. "It's what people in love do. They try to protect one another. Come to think of it, it's exactly the kind of crazy, chivalrous thing Robert would have done."

"Look," Sean's voice softened. "It _does_ all make sense. But what kind of bizarre coincidence is it that this incredible resource drops into our laps just as we're dying to find Faison? Coincidence always gives me the creeps, Anna, and it used to have the same effect on you. Yet now you're accepting it blindly."

"What are you suggesting?" she asked. "That because we're talking about Alex, I'm willing to throw caution to the wind, in order to grasp at every possible lead we might have?"

"That's not what I meant…"

"It's _exactly_ what you meant!"

Sean put his hand on her shoulder. "Sweetheart, no, it's not. I meant that, before we went to see Sandrine at Robert's apartment, you worried me. God Anna, you looked like you were going to pass out. You're stressed and tired and you have these headaches…"

"Don't worry about me, Sean, _please._ It's the last thing I need," she cut in, her anger fading as fast as it came. "Headaches came as part of the package for surviving the tanker explosion. Stress doesn't help, but I'm fine, and if I weren't you'd be the first to know."

Sean chuckled. "Right. I believe that."

"I saw this image of Alex when I looked in the mirror," she admitted. "She was hurt and calling out to me."

Sean eyed her. "And you believe what you saw? Do you think Alex is hurt?"

Anna returned his glance, "God, I hope not… but I honestly don't know. They say that identical twins have a special bond, but I'm not sure that's possible with Alex and I. If we did have some sort of bond, wouldn't I have known she was out there all this time when I had no idea she existed?"

"I don't know, but whatever you saw today, you didn't take it very well."

Anna set down her coffee running her hands through her hair, before cupping her forehead in them. "I'm just so scared for her, Sean. Every time I try to imagine where she is right now…what she's going through…_I can't._ I have to stop myself because I can't stand to think of what she's might be facing…"

"We'll find her," he promised.

Anna nodded, biting her lip to stop from crying. "We have to."

"You think Sandrine Mutanga can help us?"

"I think," she answered, choosing her words carefully. "If she's telling us the truth, she has a _really_ good reason for wanting to find him. The more determined Sandrine is, the harder she'll work at it. And we need help, Sean. We're all exhausted and reaching our limits."

Sean swallowed another sip of coffee. "Alright fine. If you think we can trust her…then I trust that."

Anna nodded, her mind drifting back to the captivating woman in Robin's apartment, wondering if Sandrine's resources would finally give them something tangible that would lead to Faison. _To Alex. _

She took a last sip of coffee, wondering if her instincts told her to trust Sandrine because they wouldn't allow her to consider the alternative.

"Thanks," she said softly.

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Faison stifled a yawn as he stepped out of Anna's room. The grandfather clock in the hallway told him it was nearly four in the morning. The sun would rise again in a couple of hours.

He had kept her awake for almost four hours. Four long hours of near silent chess. Although she'd probably caught on, he let her win every game, until the pain of her injuries made her uncomfortable enough for Faison to wake the doctor, asking him to do something.

Her discomfort had made him nearly as miserable as she was.

"_Are you sure she's alright? Because she seems anything but," Faison had demanded once they were outside the room, in the hallway. The English physician wore one of Faison's navy silk bathrobes. _

"_No, I'm not sure," Henry Thorpe had repeated with a tired irritation. "I've already explained that to you." _

"_She's…" _

"_Her injuries are painful. That's a reality you need to accept, Mr. Faison. When someone falls off a horse after her leg is gorged with an iron stake, it hurts. A lot." _

_Faison had wanted to slap the cynical tone out of the doctor's voice, but he said nothing, allowing him to continue. _

"_I've given her a higher dose of the drug I gave her earlier. It should help her get some much needed rest." _

"_But you said she shouldn't sleep yet…" _

"_Rest is very important now." The doctor had told him. "I'm not sure whether or not she has a concussion. On the one hand, she tells me she's fine, on the other, I don't believe a word out of her mouth. I don't know who she thinks she's benefiting by lying to us both. I think, Mr. Faison…" the doctor had paused taking a moment to consider what he was saying. "I think if she told us exactly how she felt you would agree with me to take her to a hospital."_

_Faison had said nothing, drawing his lips into a thin, worried line. _

_The doctor was unperturbed. _

"_The next twenty-four hours should give us a better indication of the full extent of her injuries. Let her rest for now. There's nothing more that I can do at the moment." _

'_Nothing more that I can do._' Now that the old man was back in the guest bedroom, Faison repeated the doctor's words in his mind.

"Useless, pretentious bastard," he mouthed aloud. How could he stand next to Anna and tell her he couldn't do anything for her? What kind of man stood by helpless while the woman he loved was in pain?

Faison groaned, making an angry fist with his hand. It was a helplessness that was so foreign to him it made him want to jump out of his skin.

The phone rang in his study and thankfully it interrupted his mounting frustration.

Faison moved to answer it.

"Yes, " he hissed.

He frowned at what the caller had to say.

His security officers, stationed near the estate's gated entrance were investigating two broken security cameras along the estate's perimeter.

"Let me know immediately what you find," was all he said before hanging up the phone.

Disturbances along his security fence were a common occurrence. Rodents chewed through the wiring, no matter how cleverly it was set up. Deer ran into the fence. Once, during a storm, a tree fell onto a camera, demolishing it and denting the fence in the process.

Living in the middle of nowhere meant being at the whims of Mother Nature.

Yet no matter how insignificant, any anomalies alarmed him, and Cesar Faison knew he wouldn't relax until he heard back from his men.

He sat down in the wingback chair of the study, next to the flames of the fireplace and waited.

One minute.

Two.

The antique wall clock ticked obscenely loud in the silence of the room, and a sense of alarm began bristling along his spine.

Cesar Faison picked up the two-way radio that sat on his drawer, to call his Director of Security. A beefy, scowling Russian by the name of Sergei, the same man who called him two minutes ago.

"Sergei. Come in."

There was no response.

"Sergei, come in," Faison repeated in Russian, his voice tense.

"_Sergei, come in!"_

Still nothing.

The sense of alarm that the phone call triggered was now replaced by full-fledged panic. On the outside he was icily calm while his mind raced frantically trying to think of explanations as to why Sergei wasn't responding.

'There's been a security breach,' was his first thought. If so, it meant an intruder was on his grounds.

'_Anna,_' was his first thought. '_Think_.'

Faison forced his mind to focus.

He tried the radio once more.

"Sergei! Come in!"

Silence.

_It wasn't possible anyone knew he was here, was it?_

Faison had taken countless precautions. Yet he knew better than anyone else that nothing was foolproof. He had a staff of over two dozen that helped him run the estate.

People talked. They could be bought. Transactions made in Moscow, no matter how cleverly he'd tried to contain them, could somehow have been traced back to Alexei Estate.

In today's wired world, Faison knew that no one was truly untraceable anymore.

'_Think!_' he repeated, ignoring the increasing swell of panic rising inside him.

'If anyone is here for Anna, they'll have to step over my dead body before they can get to her.'

The thought of anyone taking her away from him made him shudder involuntarily.

Faison half ran over to a locked drawer, pulling out a .40 caliber Glock semi-automatic.

He wished Jan were here. Although he would be useless in a fight, Jan was a formidable adversary when armed and in more ways than, he often thought of the Swede as an extension of himself rather than a separate person. An extension that Faison sometimes felt lost without.

Faison armed the gun, about to head to Anna's room and lock shut it with the numbered lock on the outside, when another thought occurred to him.

Jan might not be here tonight, but there was the English doctor and the young, Russian nurse.

He wasn't alone.

Faison ran back to the drawer and took out another two handguns, ran to find the doctor and nurse and armed them both, before racing to Anna's room.

_Inside Alexei Estate_

_-_

Robert Scorpio felt the black fabric of his facemask stick against his sweaty skin. As much as he wanted to take it off, Robert ignored the sensation.

So far the raid had gone well. 'Too well,' a voice nagged in the back of his mind.

The security guards and their two dogs had been disabled with ease, his African agents proving to be the sharpshooters Sampson claimed they were. When the guards came to, several hours from now, they would hopefully be long gone.

Once inside the estate, Robert found the house as deserted as he had hoped it would be. The employee's residence was a separate building about a hundred metres from the main estate and, given the early morning hour, he suspected that anyone normally inside the estate would be asleep in that building instead.

Judging from the eerie silence, Robert knew he'd been right.

As stealthily quiet as the three of them were, Robert could hear his rapid breath in the hallway of the main floor. Thankfully the old, wooden floors were lined with Persian rugs, cushioning their rubber soles.

Using his hand, he gestured to the agents which rooms to enter.

One extravagantly furnished room after another, revealed only silence and emptiness.

Their night-vision goggles captured every detail while allowing them to move rapidly through the estate, in spite of the darkness.

They entered a study with thick, richly patterned, wingback chairs and a handful of blue, dying embers inside a stone fireplace. Filling the room was a library with hundreds of leather bound books, stacked ceiling high next to narrow, rectangular stained glass windows.

In another room there was a long dining room with an elaborate oak table that could seat at least twenty, adorned with ornate silver candelabras and crystal bowls full of fresh, ripe fruit.

Next was a sitting room with Elizabethan divan chairs. Religious orthodox icons overlooked nude sculptures, next to silver trays and crystals carafes holding clear and gold coloured liqueurs.

Robert's breath grew more rapid with every lavish room they inspected.

'Upstairs,' he thought. 'The bedrooms have to be upstairs.'

Antique oil paintings inside obscenely elaborate frames looked down on them from every wall and during one glance he thought he saw moving eyelids on a Russian princess.

He was so close.

He knew it wasn't possible, but he swore he could almost _feel_ her presence now.

Robert gestured towards the stairs, frowning when he noticed that Moise Ngoma had failed to double check the corner they were turning. It was the classic mistake a young agent made when things ran too smoothly. One he might have made himself once. If this were a training exercise he would have reprimanded Moise Ngoma in a way that would ensure he never repeated the same mistake. But it wasn't. And Robert prayed the African wouldn't make the same mistake again tonight.

'There's too much at stake tonight for mistakes,' he thought nervously.

They scaled the stairs soundlessly, entering the second hallway in silence.

For the second time in less than a minute, Robert watched as Moise Ngoma turned another corner without the mandatory double check.

'Damn it,' Robert cursed this time. 'He shouldn't be here tonight. He probably hasn't been on more than half a dozen field assignments.'

The agent's carelessness bothered him almost enough to risk breaking the silence to make him aware of it. It also broke his focus in the very same instant that he realized that there was a sound in the hallway that didn't come from him, or his two agents.

It was the creaking sound of a door opening.

Robert raised his rifle motioning his agents to stop dead in their tracks, and to turn their backs to one another, surveying the entire hallway as they made a circle.

Their defensive position wasn't fully in place when the hallway was suddenly flooded with bright light, blinding them all three of them.

Robert frantically tore off his night-vision goggles.

"Down the stairs!" he yelled, catching a glimpse of an armed figure near the end of the hallway, as his pupils painfully adjusted to the brightness.

"_Down!"_ Robert repeated as the sound of gunfire reverberated through the hallway, praying the agents had pulled out their semis just as he did.

He heard Albert making a dive for the staircase, followed by the thud of the African agent's body falling down the steps.

He was hit.

"I don't think you should do that," a familiar voice warned him. Yet the voice came from the opposite end as the gunfire.

It was Faison. And he wasn't alone.

"Drop your weapons and you will be unharmed!" another accented voice instructed them.

Robert gasped. There were unaccounted security guards in the house. It made no sense and yet it was the only explanation possible.

He watched as Moise Ngoma dropped his semi onto the floor.

"_No!"_ Robert's eyes met the young agent's with fury. "Pick it up and fire! _Get out!"_ The sound of his words was drowned out by sound of his own handgun firing. Robert hoped the offensive would give the African enough cover to pick up his weapon off the floor, or to make a run down the stairs. Because one thing was certain, Faison wouldn't take any hostages.

Instead, Robert watched as the African dropped to floor.

Moise Ngoma moaned and Robert saw that he too was hit.

"Don't move," a voice warned him. "One move and you join him on the ground."

Robert's breathing was rapid and erratic, his earlier surge of adrenaline fading fast.

Both his agents were down.

Robert turned around, his eyes still adjusting to the bright lights. He could clearly see the three, armed men that surrounded him.

Within seconds, everything had ended.

Before it even began.

Cesar Faison, his primary target stood next to him pointing a Glock at his temple.

"Drop your weapon or you die right now, Scorpio."

Robert's voice caught in his throat when he spoke. "As opposed to dying later? In that case, I'll take now, thanks."

Faison scowled. "You think that's funny?" He fired another bullet into Moise Ngoma, making Robert wince.

"Drop it or else _he_ dies," Faison hissed angrily.

The African cried out in pain, writhing on the blood-stained Persian rug, as a second bullet went through his thigh.

Robert dropped both the semi and rifle, his knees weak at the realization of what that meant. Without a weapon he was defenceless. As good as dead. Worst of all, he couldn't help Anna.

Robert glanced at the other two men in the hallway whose guns were still trained on him. An older, heavy set, bearded man and a young, blonde man, with a feminine face that bordered on beautiful. He also noticed that one was wearing a flannel night shirt. The other a rumpled t-shirt. It was as thought they just got out of bed.

'They can't be security…' Robert realized.

Faison smiled at Robert. "Even after all this time. You're still so predictable. You won't drop the weapon to save your own life, but you will to save that of your men. How noble, Scorpio."

"Let them go," Robert said quietly. "They know nothing. They have _nothing_ to do with this."

Faison laughed. "I said I would, didn't I? I said he would die only if you didn't drop your weapon. But you did."

There was something in his laugh that terrified Robert. When Faison raised his gun once more, Robert knew what it was.

Faison was mocking him.

He fired another three rounds into Moise Ngoma's chest, until the African stopped writhing on the Persian rug.

Robert forced himself to watch, even as the bile creep up into his throat and his stomach lurched.

"Then again, I don't always keep my word," Faison smiled. "Isn't that right?"

"You bastard…" Robert managed.

"Don't look at me like that," Faison scolded him. "_You_ brought them here. By doing that _you_ killed them. Not me."

"Why _are_ you here, Scorpio?" Faison asked him calmly, "To reclaim what you foolishly think is yours? Or is it because I didn't keep my word, and now you intend to keep yours_. 'Stay away from Anna and I'll leave you alone. Come near her or_ _Robin and I'll kill you. Stay away from them and I'll do the same,_' that more or less sums up the deal we made doesn't it?"

Robert said nothing, unable to keep from staring at his agent, dead on the floor.

'_I should never have brought them here,' _the words played over in his mind. _'This is my fault.'_

Faison shrugged his shoulders. "What can I say? Some things are worth risking one's life for. Anna is one of them. And really, Scorpio, it's unfair to say I broke the deal when in fact Anna _came_ to me. I sent her a note and asked her to meet with me. She accepted. Deep down, you know she's here because she wants to be…and _that_ must kill you."

Robert felt the rage building inside of him.

Countless images flashed before his eyes, with shocking clarity.

The explosion on the tanker. Anna crying out to him. Flames surrounding everything he saw.

Anna gone.

Everything was as clear as though it happened yesterday.

Robin. The beautiful girl he left behind. The child whose teenage and adult life he saw only in snapshots of black and white photographs that arrived in a manila folder once every few months. Images he burned as soon as he saw them.

_My only child…the most beautiful daughter in the world, and I didn't see her grow up. _

The jungle. The humid heat and dampness of the African jungle.

Sandrine.

One image after another.

Moise Ngoma, dead at his feet.

One life lost, another one found.

Robert let his rage wash over him, until in one desperate, irrational second, he lunged at Cesar Faison.

And, in turn, Cesar Faison did exactly what Robert expected.

He fired.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32 **

_Paris, France_

_One week later_

_-_

"Cancel it," Dimitri repeated over the phone. "Yes. You heard right. _Cancel it_."

His eyelids closed as the afternoon sun burned down on both them and the park bench he was sitting on, only half listening to what his head butler was saying. "I realize we sent out over three hundred invitations...but, I repeat... the party will _not_ be taking place."

The Andrassy Spring Ball took place once a year. It was a lavish celebration to mark the beginning of Europe's horse racing season. For three days the continent's top breeders partied at Vadsel. Horses were bought and sold, while elaborate food and wine-filled tents thronged with people until the early morning hours. On the third evening, Vadsel's main ballroom hosted a resplendent, black-tie ball, featuring a full, tuxedo-clad orchestra playing Austrian waltzes and pulsating Hungarian_ csardas_.

It was much more that a party. It was an Andrassy tradition. One which cemented Dimitri Marick's lofty stature in the world of European horse racing.

Alex loved it.

'_It's a fairy tale, Dimitri! The music, the dresses, the decor...it's incredible,' she'd remarked, in awe at the sheer splendour and opulence of it all. Of course, he'd been oblivious to it all, next to the sight of her in a perfectly cut ballgown, wearing resplendent Andrassy jewels that dated back centuries._

_It was a sight he wouldn't see this year. _

"No reason," Dimitri told him. "Unforeseen circumstances is all you need to print on the retractions. Courier them out today."

Dimitri sighed. He could have sworn he'd gone over all this yesterday. That Edmund had told him he would take care of everything. Obviously his staff wasn't used to taking orders from Edmund Grey.

Dimitri couldn't entirely blame them. Cancelling the Spring Ball was unheard of. Unfathomable really. It was bad for business and would start the rumour mill spinning.

Dimitri repeated the instructions, in Hungarian this time. Slowly and deliberately, until his head butler seemed to understand, as much as he could be expected to understand.

No sooner did he end the conversation, did the phone ring again.

"Yes?" he asked seeing Vadsel's number on the call-display. This time it was Joszef, his horse trainer.

"Mr. Marick…you said you were going to be here today. To look at Sand Dancer. The vet needs you to make decision."

Dimitri cringed as he closed his eyes. He _had_ planned on flying to Vadsel today, but he had also expected Sean and Anna to return from Argentina last night, which they didn't. Dimitri wanted to see them in person, mostly to see what news they obtained and partly to give them a piece of his mind for taking off without notifying him.

"I know…I couldn't make it. I'm sorry."

"Sir, she's not good…"

The horse was one of his oldest mares, a breeder he no longer rode. She was nearly lame and unable to recover from her third bout of equine pleuropneumonia this year. The veterinarian recommended putting her down, a decision Dimitri refused to make without seeing the animal. "Put Dr. Molnar on the phone please, Joszef."

"He's not here with me right now."

Dimitri sighed, thinking of the proud animal who had produced so many of his champions. He was always there when one his horses was put down. It was his way of paying a final respect to the animals he loved.

"Do whatever you see fit, Joszef."

"But, sir…"

"I trust you to make the right decision. And please make it today."

There was a momentary silence on the other end, before he heard a soft "Yes, Mr. Marick."

When the conversation ended, Dimitri turned off his phone and glanced at the people that were walking through the park.

Everywhere around him life went on.

A young girl, with two pigtails, giggled as she pushed another girl on a playground swing. An elderly couple argued, the woman's hands flying through the air while she yelled in French. A young man with bright red hair ran after his poodle when the leash slipped out of his hand.

There were parties to plan.

Andrei had tests and races he worried about.

Thoroughbred horses were coming into the world and leaving it at Vadsel.

Life went on. _Without her_.

'Except for me…' he thought staring into the park.

Dimitri pulled a cigarette out of his jacket pocket, lighting it with the cheap plastic lighter he bought at a corner store, his hands calm and steady. It was an old nearly, forgotten habit, one he rarely indulged in anymore. His lips curled into a smile as he corrected himself, 'No, not forgotten_, forbidden_, because Alex would nag you to death if you picked it up again. _And what I wouldn't give to have you here to do that right now…'_

He exhaled a grey-blue cloud of smoke into the air, staring into space as he did. His eyes burned and he wasn't sure whether it was the smoke or the fact that he couldn't remember when he last slept.

No matter what all appearances suggested, Dimitri knew it wasn't true.

Life didn't go on. Not without her.

For him, it stood still.

_Anna's Apartment_

_-_

The apartment was dark and quiet when Anna stepped into it. She quietly turned on the light switch.

She was about to place her keys down onto a table when she felt them slip through her fingers, crashing to the floor with a bang.

Anna cringed, hoping the noise wouldn't wake David or Leah, or even Robin, if she were staying here.

"Klutz," she mumbled to herself when she heard the door to Leah's room open and saw David emerge. He looked sleepy, as though he'd just woken up.

"Sorry if I woke you" she whispered.

He grinned, running a hand through his thick, messy hair. "No, it's okay. If you didn't, I'd never see you. I forget sometimes that you live here."

Anna smirked. It was the truth. He was usually asleep in her bedroom by the time she came home to catch a few hours of sleep and a glimpse of Leah before heading back to the Auberge in the early morning hours.

"Leah was fussy tonight so I stayed with he. I fell asleep in her room," David explained. He saw Anna still holding the black, leather travelling bag in her hand. "Here, let me give you a hand with that…"

Anna shook her head, setting the bag down on the sofa. "It's okay…I just want to grab a quick shower and then head back to the Auberge."

"What about getting some sleep?"

"I slept on the plane," she lied, undoing the zipper on the bag. "Is Leah okay?"

David nodded. "She is…she couldn't be recovering better."

Anna felt a pang of guilt. She'd barely spent half a day with her daughter since she was released from the hospital. "Thank you," she told him. "For looking after her."

David frowned, his expression darkening "You don't need to thank me for that. She's our little girl, Anna…of course I would…"

"I know."

His expression softened. "How was Argentina?"

"Frustrating," Anna exclaimed with a sigh. "We went there because we got a lead from local law enforcement stating there was unusual activity around an isolated _estancia_ that we're pretty sure belongs to Faison. It's in the middle of nowhere, David...in southern Patagonia. Fly-in only. We tried to get a search warrant and then all of a sudden the police balked, offering no co-operation whatsoever, denying their earlier claims. We sat on a windswept plain and monitored the estate for three days and… nothing. It was absolutely deserted. No human activity. _Nothing_."

"So you're back to square one?"

Anna nodded, tiredly. Merely thinking of the time they wasted on the futile lead made her angry. "You could say that."

David eyed her. "You're wound pretty tight…why don't you sit down and I'll make you some tea."

In truth, it was exactly what she needed right now, but she didn't want to admit it. "If you want to make some while I take a shower and check on Leah…"

"I will."

By the time she had stepped into the shower, he had a pot of Early Grey ready in the living room.

David grabbed the half opened leather travel bag, about to set it on the ground when his eyes caught a glimpse of the small prescription container near the top. His hand reached for it, when he felt Anna standing behind him, making him jump. She wore only a white bathrobe, her long, dark hair still wet.

"Looking for something?" she asked.

David's heart pounded. She had an uncanny way of doing that. Approaching him without making a sound.

He rattled the prescription container. "Last time I asked you said the headaches weren't bothering you anymore. Is that why there are only two pills left?"

Anna shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe I like the cherry flavour…"

David rolled his eyes. "Funny." His irritation didn't hide his concern. "I mean it, Anna. I won't give you anymore unless you see a doctor."

She narrowed her brows in angry disbelief. "Keep your pills. Throw them out for all I care. It's not as though I asked you for them to start."

"_Anna_…"

"You lecture me as though you wrote out a legitimate prescription, when in fact we both know you pilfered them from the hospital when Leah was there." She gave him a heated look. "That's still illegal isn't it? Stealing narcotics? As an agent of Interpol I really should report you, which means you'd risk losing your licence. _Again_."

David said nothing returning her angry glare with one of his own.

"You think I wouldn't?" she challenged. "My days of lying for you are over, David."

He threw the container back at her. "You know what? I don't give a damn what you do…I don't know why I bother…" He turned around to leave, heading back into Leah's room.

Anna knew it was only because the baby was sleeping that he didn't slam it shut.

She bit her lip, regretting her words, her gaze resting on the closed bedroom door.

'God, was that really necessary?' she asked herself, fighting back tears. 'Biting off his head because he shows a little concern?'

She wanted to follow him into Leah's room and apologize.

David had dropped everything to come to Paris when she called. And now he was staying indefinitely to care for her daughter when she couldn't.

'Except I don't have the energy for another fight,' she thought

Instead, Anna picked up one of the cups and saucers that David had placed on the living room table and heard its porcelain rattle in her shaky hands. She eyed the crystal bottle of cognac that sat inside the wall unit. She suddenly felt like she needed something stronger than Earl Grey.

This time she was the one who didn't hear him come back into the living room.

David sat down next to her in silence.

"I'm sorry," she started. "You didn't deserve…"

His eyes hid a grin. "It's one thing we always did really well, isn't it? Push each other's buttons."

"Yeah, you could say that."

"We always fought too much," he admitted, regret in his voice.

His hand reached over and cupped hers, steadying the teacup she held. "I want you to know that I'm not the same man you left a year ago."

"I know…"

"No you don't know," he said softly, cutting her off. "You _can't_ know because you weren't there." His fingers remained wrapped around hers. "After you left, I thought I lost everything. Then Leo died. And then I _really_ lost everything, Anna. The only three people that mattered in my life. You and the baby, and my brother, were all pulled out from under me within months."

Anna closed her eyes, unable to hold his gaze.

"When you lose everything, your life changes, Anna. I want a chance for you to _see_ that. Every day that I hold my daughter in my arms I feel like I've been given a second chance. Getting back something so unbelievably precious that I thought I lost forever."

His dark eyes narrowed, " I know I hurt you, Anna. I lied about Maria and that hurt you, and I'm so sorry."

Anna took a sip of cognac to steady her hands. "I can't do this, David. Not now…not with Alex…"

"I never said I was sorry," he went on. "It's time I said it. I want you to _know_ that I am…_sorry_."

Anna nodded. "I do know."

"I told myself after you left that if I ever got a second chance, I wouldn't lie to you again. But I did last week," he said softly, unable to stop. "When I said I was concerned about your health because I'm a physician, I lied, Anna. The truth is, I care because I still love you, and I couldn't stand it if anything happened to you." David observed her. "I'm not Robert, I'm not a hero."

"I never asked you to be."

"But I do love you, Anna. You and Leah, you're my entire world and I'm ready to fight for that."

David was silent while he waited for her to contradict him, his fingers reaching up to trace the outline of her lips.

"I missed you," was what she managed to say instead. "I _really_ missed you."

"And I missed you." His fingers moved from her lips down her neck. "I missed you so much."

Anna didn't resist when she felt his other arm move around her back, guiding her as she sank back into the sofa.

A smile raised the corner of her mouth, when she felt his lips on hers, kissing them. Tenderly first, then greedily. His hands moved underneath her bath robe, caressing her clean, smooth skin, with a subtlety that made her aware of every sensation, bringing back feelings that Anna didn't know still existed.

They had failed at so much in their short time together, yet in those intimate moments when they gave up on words, something timeless and perfect emerged between them. What David couldn't say in words, he never failed to show her.

Anna couldn't remember anyone knowing her as well, as_ intimately_, as David did.

She remembered teasing him about their undeniable chemistry long after she married him to protect him from the law, and his answer had taken her aback.

"_It's so good between us, Anna, because we always made love, right from the very beginning. It was never just sex."_

A moan of pleasure escaped her lips.

His lips moved lower and his hands followed, while Anna's fingers fumbled impatiently with the buttons on his shirt.

"It's not fair…" she laughed, "You're wearing too much clothing…"

He stopped his kisses long enough to help her along. "I love you, Anna. You have no idea how much…"

Her bathrobe lying on the ground, Anna wrapped herself around him, wondering if it was possible that in moments like these time really did stand still.

Just as his touch always did, Anna wondered if hers too betrayed her, and revealed the depth of her love for him.

But in that instant when their bodies merged, she didn't care, knowing only that she wanted to sink inside of that love and never let it go again.

_Brussels, Belgium_

_-_

Jan Holstrom paced inside his hotel suite, occasionally stopping near the window and pulling the heavy curtains aside to gaze at the low-rise buildings that dotted his surroundings.

The phone was ringing.

Jan continued pacing, ignoring it.

He knew exactly who it was. Cesar Faison.

'Why are you still here?' he asked himself nervously. _'Why?' _

By now he should have taken Robert Scorpio's diamond money and disappeared.

'Robert must have reached Alexei Estate by now,' Jan told himself. 'And me, I should be somewhere in the Caribbean or South-East Asia, beginning a new life under a new name.'

"Yet here I am," he announced aloud to no one. "Waiting for one of Faison's hit men to take me out." Jan sighed. He might as well draw a bullseye on his forehead

'Why?' he asked himself again.

"Because you don't know for sure whether Faison will suspect you," he said aloud, answering his own question, grateful that the phone stopped its unbearable ringing.

If he fled now, his guilt would be unmistakeable. No matter where he went, he would spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder in fear. Waiting for the day that Faison would catch up to him and kill him for what he did.

If nothing else, his boss was a patient, persistent man. God knows Faison had proven that many times over in his pursuit of Anna.

"If I can convince him that someone else betrayed his trust," Jan thought, his calculating mind spinning. "Then I could have my cake and eat it too."

Jan could spend another decade or so in Faison's service and then retire a wealthy, happy man. He wouldn't be a fugitive.

'After all, how can I enjoy a mansion full of art, if I have to live in fear?' he asked himself, staring out the window again. Everything had seemed so clear and simple when he had made that deal with Scorpio all these years ago. He'd known about the risks involved. Yet somehow the risks seemed worth it then and not nearly as daunting as they were now, when the time had come to make a decision.

Jan's eyes burned with fatigue, too tired to appreciate the approaching sunset. He hadn't slept in three days. His already thin, long face now looked ghostly.

He was a nervous wreck.

Jan removed his glasses to rub his eyes. Then he loosened his Italian silk tie, with trembling fingers.

He should have taken off as soon as he left the Vatican City. Instead, he'd come to Brussels and met with Faison's associate, as he was asked to. Now his boss wanted him to fly to Paris to meet with another associate.

'Because that's all I ever do,' Jan realized with a sombre smile. 'I do what I'm told. And now when I'm supposed to take my life into my own hands... _I can't_.'

'What if Robert never made it to Alexei Estate?' Jan asked himself, brushing the thought from his mind. There were so many possibilities. Including the possibility that Robert _had_ made it to Alexei Estate and killed Cesar Faison.

His heart skipped a beat when he heard the phone ring again.

If it was Faison and he avoided him for much longer, Jan would inadvertently begin stirring the pot of suspicion.

'_Don't_!' A voice in the back of his head cautioned him, as he headed towards the ringing phone.

Jan ignored it and picked it up, his voice caught in his throat.

He gulped. "Yes…hello?"

"Where the hell have you been?" the voice on the other end demanded. "I've been trying to reach you all day!"

"I was at... the Boulevard Barthelemy…I had problems with my cell phone…" Jan stammered. The boulevard was an artist's quarter of sorts. In a city not known for its fine arts, the Boulevard Barthelemy hosted a surprisingly good selection of avant-garde galleries that had always mildly interested him. He hadn't been there today, but Faison would easily believe that he had.

"There has been a security breach at Alexei Estate," Faison told him. His boss's voice was agitated and he didn't bother with small talk. "As soon as you return from Paris I need you to help me find out who was responsible."

_Alexei Estate, north of Moscow, Russia_

_-_

"You're a very lucky man, Mr. Scorpio," the old man with the English accent and the thick beard told him, while examining his stitches. The doctor pressed his hand alongside the wound.

Robert winced, clenching his handcuffed fists.

It was the second time the odd doctor had visited him. The first had been to stitch up the wound he was now examining.

"Tell me what happened to the other man…the black man who was with me," Robert asked again. He knew Moise Ngoma had died that night almost a week ago, when he had invaded the estate, but he had neither seen nor heard news of his other partner, Albert St. Jaques.

The old man said nothing, eyeing the wound on the side of Robert's body with interest.

"Why can't you tell me? What's it to you?" Robert demanded.

The doctor ignored him. "This was an extremely clean shot. In and out, without damaging any major organs." The doctor's hand moved over Robert's kidney and liver. "One inch to the left and we would be looking at an entirely different story. He could have killed you."

Were his hands and legs not tied together Robert would have found a way to force the answer out of the doctor. The last time Robert had seen the African WSB agent, he'd fallen down the stairs, whether or not it was because he had been hit, Robert didn't know and he prayed the man was still alive.

'Lucky,' he thought bitterly, was the very last thing he felt right now. Luck had nothing to do with anything. He had no doubts that if Faison had wanted to kill him, he would be dead now.

"Tell me about my partner," Robert repeated, unable to read the doctor's expression.

Dr. Henry Thorpe pursed his lips in annoyance. "What do _you_ think happened to him, Mr. Scorpio?"

"Is he dead?" Robert asked, dreading the answer.

"He didn't suffer, if that's any consolation."

Robert closed his eyes. Cesar Faison was right. It didn't matter who pulled the trigger. Robert was the one responsible for bringing them here. _He_ had gambled with their lives and lost. He had killed them.

The thought increased the pain in his side, and, oddly enough, it gave him some comfort. Robert wished he could somehow exchange his life for those of Moise Ngoma and Albert St. Jaques.

"I suspect you will recover fully within a couple of weeks," the doctor pointed out.

'Recover for what?' Robert thought, feeling the muscles in his arms cramp from being handcuffed behind his back.

"Have you seen Anna?" Robert tried.

The doctor smiled again. "It's rather ironic Mr. Scorpio. I was brought here to treat your ex-wife. If I hadn't been, there would have been no one around to stitch you up."

Robert felt an uncomfortable warmth creep up his throat.

_Why would Anna need a doctor?_

"What did you treat her for?"

The doctor said nothing, closing his medical bag.

"I asked you what's wrong with her!" Robert yelled, wishing he could grab the old man by the collar.

"Your ex-wife is rather bull headed, and as a result she had an accident."

"What happened?"

The doctor smiled a thin smile. "I wouldn't worry about her, she's in a better position right now than you are, Mr. Scorpio."

Robert winced, "Please tell me…is Anna okay?"

The doctor picked up his bag. "I will see you tomorrow, Mr. Scorpio, and after that I don't believe you will be needing my services any longer."

"_Tell me about Anna!"_

Robert struggled to sit, forcing his arms to straighten and to push his upper body off the floor. He made it halfway before they bent to the will of the handcuffs, and his arms collapsed, making him fall over them and leaving him in a worse position than before.

He was lying on his stomach, his arms underneath him, as his face pressed sideways onto the cold, stone floor. The wound in his side throbbed and Robert clenched his teeth against the pain.

He knew what would happen next.

Three armed guards would enter the room and undo his handcuffs, with at least one gun aimed at his temple during the process. Then they would kick him to the one of the room's corners and leave as quickly as they came.

Robert heard the door open before he had a chance to finish his thought. As he anticipated three armed men came towards him, ordering something in Russian, that Robert was sure translated loosely into 'Don't try anything.'

He heard the metal click as the handcuffs came undone, the butt of a rifle pressed into his back at the same time.

Robert thought of Anna and made a reflexive move to push the weapon away from him, kicking the first man in the shins. The guard lost his balance and fell backwards.

As a result, the second man rammed the butt of his rifle into the back of Robert's head, slamming him to the ground. The third man kicked a steel-toed boot into his injured side and this time Robert couldn't stop the cry of pain that escaped his lips. Searing pain shot through his body and his freed arms hugged it as he curled up into a fetal position on the ground.

Robert vaguely heard the first man curse in Russian after getting back up. Then he felt another rifle slam into his back.

His eyes clouded and for a moment he thought he might pass out but then the pain receded, and by the time his awareness returned, Robert noticed the three guards had left.

He crawled towards the nearest wall and rested against it, his right arm still pressed against his side.

"Not very smart…" he mumbled to himself, trying to breathe as delicately as he could, the effort making him cough. He had started coughing a couple of days ago, as a result of the room's damp cold. Taking out three men would have been difficult in the best of times. It was suicide in his current state.

Given the cold, stone floor Robert deducted that he was in the cellar of the estate. The dark, windowless room came with a rusting sink and toilet, making Robert doubt that he was the first person held prisoner here. Its only other furnishing consisted of a double mattress thrown on the floor, bare except for two thick wool blankets and single pillow. During his first two nights here, Robert hadn't left the mattress and as a result there were now dark, dried bloodstains on it.

Food was shoved through a slot in the door twice a day. It came devoid of utensils, forcing Robert to eat it with his hands.

Now as he held his side, he felt a fresh surge of fear.

'You've been in worse places,' he reminded himself, forcing his mind to calm itself in the dark, claustrophobic space. He had slept on the backs of African cargo trucks, next to injured rebels that stank of impending death. He'd also spent many nights in the moist, bug-ridden jungles of the Congo, where he shared his living space with white, flying cockroaches and black, poisonous spiders.

'You're not dead yet,' he reminded himself. Faison had kept him alive for a reason.

'He wants to know how I found him,' Robert thought. 'As long as I know something that Faison desperately wants to find out, he won't kill me. It gives me leverage, however small it might be.'

Robert wondered whether his informant, the man he knew only as Hans, was here at Alexei Estate. If maybe it was the baby-faced man who had pointed a rifle at him that night, next to the English doctor.

'If Hans fears that I'll give him away, _he_ could be the one who's forced to set me free to keep me from talking…'

His mind raced.

He thought of the two men for whose lives he was responsible. Although he knew next to nothing about Albert, Robert knew that Moise had a wife and children. If Robert made it out of here alive, he had to be the one to tell her what happened.

At the same time the old doctor's words made him fear for Anna.

"_Your ex-wife is rather bull-headed and as a result she had an accident." _

How hurt was she for Cesar Faison to call in a doctor? And how hurt would she have to be before he risked taking her to a hospital?

Robert cursed. He was _so_ close, and yet he'd failed her. Again. He'd been too late. Just as he was a decade ago, on that burning tanker.

Inexplicably, his mind drifted to Sandrine.

She would be worried by now. Worried and justifiably angry that he hadn't contacted her.

Robert thought of the diamond ring that sat in his desk drawer.

'I wanted to marry you, Sandi. To love you for giving me a future that I didn't think I still had.'

Yet he also knew that he would give the world to hold Anna in his arms one more time. To see his beautiful daughter once more. To tell Robin he loved her more than life itself.

"Stop this," he scolded himself. "Stop dreaming." The only thing that mattered now was living long enough to get out of here.

One week.

One week from today an envelope with the co-ordinates of Cesar Faison's estate would be sent via registered courier, directly to Sandrine Mutanga's office in Kinshasa.

It had been his one pre-arranged fail-safe measure in the event that anything went wrong. If the mission had been a success he would have cancelled the courier order before it had a chance to go out.

If it wasn't, it meant Sandrine and the WSB would know where to find Anna. Even if the result was prison rather than death for Cesar Faison, it was one fail-safe measure he had to take, for Anna.

'And if I can survive a week, they might even find me.'

'One week,' Robert thought, shivering in the damp cold. 'All Anna and I have to do is survive one more week here. One week. Then help is on its way.'

_Alexei Estate, upstairs_

_-_

"It's time, Anna," the voice told her. The image accompanying it was blurry at first, then it cleared as her eyes focused.

Alex saw the young nurse, with the beautiful, feminine face holding a tray and a glass of water.

She sat up against the pillows and saw him hold out two pills for her to take.

The nurse smiled, "You are sleeping much better now. Better and longer."

'Sleep,' Alex thought groggily. It was all she could remember doing for days now. Time had become a cloudy mixture of pain and drugs and darkness.

Alex took the pills and swallowed them. The physician in her was ashamed that she didn't even bother to look at them or ask the nurse what they were. She knew only that they dulled the pain and, more importantly, that they clouded her mind enough to let her sleep without dreaming.

Sleep.

No matter how long she slept, the exhaustion lingered.

She remembered little of the past few days. There were occasional moments of wakefulness when she vaguely saw Faison sitting by her bedside. Moments when the young nurse patiently fed her one reluctant bite at a time. Food that she forced herself to eat even though its smell and texture made her nauseous. She remembered the young man holding her as she took unsteady steps to the nearest bathroom.

In those wakeful moments her mind inevitably drifted to Dimitri and Andrei. Instead of offering her comfort, their faces only served to intensify her loneliness. It was a deep, unbearable sense of solitude that made her grateful for the drugs that took it away by letting her sleep.

Even now she could begin to feel their sedative effect, lulling her back into a dark, dreamless place.

_The Library, Alexei Estate_

_-_

Cesar Faison paced the dimly lit room, lined with bookshelves on every wall.

Robert Scorpio was a problem. A major problem.

Faison's every instinct told him to vacate Alexei Estate. Right now. If Robert knew where he was, it meant the WSB had to know as well.

'So where are they?' he'd asked himself earlier. 'Where is Scorpio's back-up team? It's been a week.' It was an easy question to answer. Scorpio didn't come here on an official mission. Robert had come here to kill him and the politically correct WSB of today wouldn't sign off on an assignment based on personal revenge, even if they would consider his death welcome news.

"Still, it's absurd to think he wouldn't have told anyone else," Faison murmured. "Even someone as arrogant as Scorpio would have made some sort of contingency plans."

Faison's first instinct after wounding Robert and killing the two others had been to leave Alexei Estate. There were at least three ideal locations to choose from: an isolated _estancia_ in Argentina's Patagonia region, a hacienda in central Mexico and, most reclusive of all, a beautiful villa accessible only by water, off the coast of Mozambique.

Leaving Alexei Estate seemed inevitable and Faison saw no reason to delay it, until he spoke to the old, English doctor.

"_It's a risk to move her without proper medical equipment on hand." _

"_I can obtain it!" Faison had countered. "You tell me what you need and I'll obtain it for you." _

"_I cannot leave Russia!" the doctor had shot back. "You're considering a trans-continental flight, a two hour drive into Moscow, and God knows what other forms of transportation until you reach your destination…if you do this to her now, I won't take any responsibility."_

The old man's unexpected outburst had struck a chord. The doctor was right. Neither of them were aware of the full extent of Anna's injuries. If anything were to happen to her while they were in transit, Faison knew he'd never forgive himself.

While giving Anna time to recover, Faison increased his security presence threefold. He updated his security system and extended the surveillance around the estate's parameter.

And he waited. Like a restless, sitting duck he waited for the WSB to arrive.

'So where the hell are they?' he thought, eyeing a leather-bound, first edition of Dostoyevsky's "Crime and Punishment."

Was it possible Scorpio told no one else of his whereabouts? Would he really, truly be that reckless? Or that _confident_?

"Only one person knows the answer to that question," Faison mumbled. He knew he would interrogate Scorpio soon and it was an encounter he was anticipating with some pleasure. Not knowing how Robert found him at Alexei estate was maddening and each time he thought about it, Faison wanted to head down the cellar and personally beat the information out of Anna's ex-husband. The only thing that prevented him from doing precisely that was the knowledge that, in his current rage, he would probably kill Scorpio prematurely, before he talked.

'Besides,' Faison thought. 'It's better to keep him waiting. He's already wounded and the longer he rots away in that damp, cold cell, the more it will wear away at his resistance and the more likely he will want to co-operate with me.'

Once he had what he wanted from Scorpio, Faison would end a two-decade-old feud and he would kill him.

The only aspect of killing Scorpio that disappointed him was that it meant that Robert wouldn't get a chance to see him together with Anna. That he wouldn't get the chance to rub in the fact, that, after everything, in the end, Anna had chosen him. Even so, the need to humiliate Scorpio wasn't as strong as the need to kill him. Faison was well aware that it could be months or longer before he gained Anna's trust, and ultimately her love.

He wasn't willing to let Scorpio hang around that long. Faison wanted Robert Scorpio out of his life for good. Now.

Faison clenched his fist.

Now wasn't soon enough.

Meanwhile, Anna's recovery was coming along in baby steps. According to Dr. Thorpe, the reason for that was largely due to Anna's unwillingness to help it along.

Then there was Jan.

Faison needed him to run his business in Europe. Yet at the same time he wanted the Swede here, at his side. He needed the man's precise, methodical mind to help him find out how it was possible that Scorpio had come so far.

Faison picked up the leather-bound Dostoyevsky novel and threw it across the room in a rage. A cloud of dust rose into the air after the book landed on the floor with a thud.

Nothing much was going according to plan this week.

He thought of the estate's large, refitted exercise room and decided he needed to pay it another visit today.

_Later_

_-_

This time it was a woman's voice that woke her.

"The doctor says you have to eat to get strong," the voice told her and judging from its slightly frustrated tone Alex deduced it wasn't the first time she said it.

Alex turned her back to Olga. "No, thanks."

She felt the woman sit down on the bed, next to her, surprising Alex. Normally it was the nurse and sometimes it was Faison, who coerced her into eating.

"I don't understand why you don't want to get better," Olga mumbled.

Alex wished she could turn off the woman's voice. As if she cared what Faison's jilted ex-lover thought.

"He told me about you," Olga went on, sitting with the tray of food in her lap. "One morning, before he brings you here, he told me about you. He says you are the strongest woman he has ever met."

Alex thought she heard Olga snicker.

"I was very jealous," she admitted. "Because I believe him. I believe that you are strong and beautiful, like he tells me. But now I think he is wrong…he sees you the way he _wants_ to see you. But me…" she snickered again. "Me, I see the truth. You are weak and small. You fall off a horse and now you are a big baby."

Alex turned to face her, groaning as she pressed on her sprained wrist with the movement. "If I eat something, will you shut up?"

Olga gave her an irritated glance. "Maybe."

Alex glared at her, angry that on top of everything she now had to face this woman's animosity. "I don't give a damn what you think…" she spat out. Oddly enough the anger felt good and it helped clear the haze in her head.

"I don't know why he loves you so much." Olga held out a piece of toast for her. "You are a coward. You are not worth it."

Alex pushed back a pillow and sat up, biting into the bread. "Believe me, I wish he loved you instead of me. As much as you do."

"Cesar Faison is a good man, a kind man," Olga told her, the sincerity in her voice telling Alex she meant it. "He deserves a woman who loves him, but you only hurt him. He wants to help you get better and you push him away."

"You say I hurt him?" Alex challenged her. "Faison's not the one lying here with bruises all over him."

Olga blushed, "They say you fell of the horse because you don't know how to ride…"

"I fell off the horse because I tried to get away from him," Alex corrected her.

"That's not what they say," Olga countered, full of conviction. The man she knew would never forcibly chase down a woman and cause her to fall off a horse. The man she knew wasn't that cruel. Olga knew what it meant to be imprisoned. It was Cesar Faison who had freed her when he took her from that brothel in Moscow and brought her here.

"I'm sure he told you I came her willingly, didn't he?" Alex added with a bitter smile. The effort of the conversation taking its toll on her. "I'm sure he didn't tell you he drugged me and took me away from my baby girl, after he injected her with a virus and almost killed her."

Olga looked shocked. "I don't believe what you say. He _is_ a good man," Olga repeated, appalled at the accusations that came from Anna's mouth.

Alex pushed away the tray. It didn't matter what Olga thought. Trying to convince her Faison was deranged was obviously a futile effort because the woman was in love with him. Like the act of eating, it seemed to require more effort than it was worth.

All she wanted was to escape into the darkness again.

Alex sank back into the pillows, closing her eyes. She vaguely noticed Olga setting the nearly untouched tray of food aside.

Instead of leaving the room, Olga stood by the door, watching her.

"_If_ what you say is true," she said softly, almost whispering. "You would do something. You would fight to get better, but I see you don't fight…and I think it is because you don't want to leave."

Alex pressed her eyes shut, wishing she couldn't hear what Olga was saying.

_You hate what she's saying because it's true. _

She'd spent days here in a drugged heap of pain and self-pity, waiting to be rescued. Closing her eyes until the day came when this nightmare would end without doing anything to speed it along.

_Anna wouldn't be this pathetic. She wouldn't give up. Anna would fight. _

Alex fought back angry tears as she heard Charlotte's voice.

'_Anna was always the strong one. Always reminding me that I stole the wrong child.' _

Alex clenched her teeth. God, she hated her so much. Hated Charlotte for haunting her even now, so many years later.

In the corner of her eye, she saw Olga about to leave.

"Wait…"

"What is it?" Olga asked brusquely.

Alex opened her eyes.

The fall from the horse, as painful as it was, had been her only attempt to escape. It was her first try. It didn't have to be her last. It was a foolish, reckless and impulsive attempt and at the same time it was a mistake she could learn from. One she wouldn't make again.

"I want to wash myself…but I need help."

_Later_

_-_

Anna sat on the rim of the bed, as Olga gently brushed her hair, untangling the thick, wet mass by clasping it in her hands as she tugged at it with a brush.

The nurse, Viktor, had offered to help bathe her but Anna had declined, leaving Olga alone with the task, and oddly enough she didn't mind as much as she thought she would.

She yanked at a knot in Anna's hair, a movement that made her towel fall down her back, once again revealing the dark bruise that ran along her side and rib cage.

"I am sorry," Olga muttered.

Anna said nothing, remaining as quiet as she'd been during the entire bath.

Olga stared at the purple bruise. It was one of many. One bruise ran down along one side of her face, from her temple to her chin, another threatened to burst out from underneath the bandage around her injured thigh and a thick, reddish swelling rose on her wrist, along with other, smaller ones that dotted her body.

Olga knew they hurt. Merely looking at them brought back memories of similar bruises that used to cover her body and the fact that Anna barely flinched when she scrubbed them, brought on an unexpected twinge of admiration.

"You smell nice now," Olga told her, attempting a smile as she readjusted Anna's towel, covering her thin, pale shoulders with it. Next to her bulky frame, Anna was small. Fragile.

Olga was about to help her raise her arms to put on her nightgown when Anna stopped her.

"No…I'm not going back to bed. Something else. Please."

"You are tired. Viktor said you have to…" Olga protested.

"_Please."_

Olga sighed and walked towards a closet full of newly bought clothes, eyeing them with envy. There were countless rich, beautiful fabrics, many of which had designer labels. Olga riffled through them until she found a loose skirt and blouse, two items that would be easy to wear given her bandages.

After dressing her, Olga towel dried her hair and led her to a thick, wingback chair. The effort of the bath seemed to have exhausted her and in spite of her words, Olga doubted that Anna would make it any further today.

"Can I bring you something else?" she asked her.

"The crutches," Anna told her softly, closing her eyes, her face pale against the dark green fabric of the chair.

Olga set them next to her. "Would you like something to eat or to drink now."

Anna shook her head and met her eyes. "No. Not now."

"Anything?"

"No, I just need a few minutes alone," Anna declined the offer. "Thank you… for helping me."

The woman's gratitude took her by surprise. "You are welcome," was all she said before leaving the room. She still couldn't bring herself to believe the accusations Anna made against Cesar Faison.

Perhaps she wasn't as weak as Olga had made her out to be, but one thing was certain. Anna Devane had to be wrong about Cesar Faison. _Had_ to be.

_Later_

_-_

Alex waited until Olga left the room, before standing up with the help of the crutches placed next to the chair she sat in.

She was exhausted and her injured thigh throbbed after the bath allowed soap to seep into the dressing.

'It would be so much easier just to go back to sleep,' she thought, making her way to the bedside table to pick up one of the medication containers that stood on it.

She held it up to the lamplight, in order to read the inscription on the label, surprised that she could easily decipher the Cyrillic script. Alex couldn't remember when exactly she learned Russian but during the last week she picked up sizeable parts of the conversations between the Russian nurse and Olga. She could also read it well enough to discern what the labels meant. It was a narcotic painkiller. One with a higher dosage than she'd have ever thought to prescribe herself.

'No wonder I've been so spaced out,' she thought. Alex reluctantly set the container back down, ignoring the pain in her thigh, as she sat down on the bed, staring at the door.

'No one is coming to rescue you,' she realized. 'It's time you accepted that.'

Without the tracking device no one, not Sean, not Dimitri, nor Anna, had any clue where to find her.

'The only way out is finding one myself.'

Cesar Faison had one weakness, and that was his love for Anna.

'His one weakness is my one advantage. He thinks I'm Anna, and he truly believes Anna could love him. I have to gain his trust even if gaining his trust means letting him...' Alex thought darkly. 'Even if it means letting him come near me…letting him touch me.' A new wave of nausea struck her, forcing her hand over her mouth.

It was an insane idea.

'There's no way. I can't do this…'

_Yes, you can. _

If Faison thought he could trust her, she'd be allowed certain freedoms. But if she continued to fight him he would continue to treat her like a prisoner.

She thought of Dimitri. Of his arms around her at night. The thought of never feeling his touch again was unthinkable.

Yet she _wasn't_ Anna. The idea if trying to seduce a murderer terrified her. 'There is no way I can do this…'

_Yes, you can_. _Everything you've done here so far has been a lie. A pretence. All you have to do is take it one small step further. You have to make him trust you. _

It would be difficult and it would take time, but wasn't impossible. Deep down, Cesar Faison, as smart as he was, desperately wanted Anna to trust him and love him.

Alex sighed. 'If I can somehow convince him that that's _possible_ then I'll have the upper hand…'

She pushed herself off the bed, reaching for the crutches just as the nurse entered the room.

"Anna, what are you doing?" he asked her in surprise. "Why you don't ask for me?"

"I want to go for a walk."

"Let me help you," he scolded her. "You can hurt yourself."

Alex frowned, hoping he wouldn't see the effort it took to keep standing. "No…I don't need any help."

"If you are hurt Mr. Faison will be…" the young man started.

Alex managed a smile. "I will tell him I insisted."

The nurse returned her smile. "It does not matter what you tell him. He will be very angry."

Alex lowered her shoulders in defeat. The last thing she wanted was for the young man to face Faison's wrath on her account. "Fine…come with me but only until I've found him."

"Who do you want to find?" the nurse asked her, puzzled, as he slipped an arm around her waist.

"Faison."

_Alexei Estate, Gymnasium_

_-_

Alex peaked her head inside the fitness room, watching him practice.

"You can leave now," she whispered to Viktor, narrowing her brows when he hesitated. _"Please!"_

"I will wait for you here, in the corridor," he told her.

Alex sighed. "Fine."

Gazing into the gymnasium in front of her, Alex marvelled at its contrast to the other, opulently decorated rooms of the estate. Except for a handful of free weights that lined one of its walls, the room was bare. One of the walls was in reality a floor to ceiling mirror, making the entire space look like a dance studio rather than a gym.

Strips of incense burned in one corner, next to a statue of Buddha. The grey smoke filled the air with an exotic scent. Aside from a dozen or so tea lights that burned along the walls, there was no light in the windowless room.

The candlelight, combined with the smoke of the incense, cast a misty, surreal glow over Faison, who was practising kicks and blocks on the bare floor.

Faison didn't notice her watching him.

All his concentration was focused on the powerful movements he made. Movements that were carried out with absolute precision.

Alex didn't know what form of martial art Faison was practising but whichever it was, his movements suggested there was no doubt he had long ago mastered it.

When his arms cut through the air, they were forceful enough to make swooshing sounds that reverberated through the room and when he leapt into the air with straight-legged kicks he seemed to defy gravity. The movements were so swift Alex had trouble keeping track of them.

She leaned against the wall, near the entrance of the room, watching him for several minutes.

Only when Faison did an elaborate back kick that spun him directly into her line of vision, did he stop what he was doing and lost his focus long enough to nearly lose his balance.

"Anna?" he gasped, catching his breath. His grey hair had slipped out of its ponytail and the black belt had loosened around his crisp, white martial arts uniform. His shock at seeing her was palpable and as he moved towards her, he wiped a layer of perspiration from his forehead. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I was getting bored."

"Are you well enough to walk around?"

"My being here should answer that question."

Faison frowned, his eyebrows furrowing themselves into a concerned expression. "You don't look well."

Truthfully, her injured leg throbbed and Alex felt light-headed. Her hands clutched tightly onto the crutches, afraid that if she lost her balance she would topple over, like a marionette without its strings.

"You're very skilled," she pointed out.

Faison's frown deepened. "You know I am. As are you."

Alex blushed. Taking the conversation towards a discussion of martial arts techniques, of which she had no knowledge, wasn't the best idea. 'Idiot…' she scolded herself.

"Why did you do that, Anna?" he asked softly, untying his pony-tail and wiping his perspiration with a small, white towel he picked up off the floor.

"Do what?"

"Why did you try and jump the fence with the horse?"

The question caught her off guard. "I…I don't know…"

Before she noticed it, Alex felt his arms around her waist.

"You know why," he told her. "You should sit down. You're as pale as a ghost." He led her to a wooden bench next to the candles and the Buddha statue, where the incense filled smoke still drifted into the air.

Alex made no attempt to brush him off, taken aback at the strength in his grip. Underneath the white outfit he wore was a wiry, muscular body that didn't match his age.

Sitting down was a welcome relief and Alex felt the cool beads of sweat along her hairline. The short walk down the stairs and to the gymnasium was the furthest she had gone in a week, and it drained her of the little energy she had.

His gaze noticing everything, Faison used his towel to wipe the perspiration from her forehead. "You're exhausted. You should go back to bed."

"I ran away because of what you said," Alex started, ignoring his suggestion.

"I'm sorry I kissed you the way I did, before you ran off."

Alex tensed, brushing the thought of that vicious kiss from her mind.

"I apologize for frightening you."

"You didn't frighten me," Alex countered defensively. "It wasn't what you did that day. It's what you said…about me pretending to be someone I'm not."

"You always try too hard to do the right thing, my love. To do the _lawful_ thing," he explained. "That's all I meant. That people like you and I should never try to fit in, because we never will and were never meant to. You and I, Anna, were always destined for greater things than law-abiding mediocrity."

Alex leaned against the wall. "It terrified me," she admitted softly. "The thought that you and I could have something in common. Something so fundamental."

Faison offered her a bitter smile. "Truth hurts."

Alex sighed. It was a start. Admitting her doubts would raise his hopes, even if she wanted him to believe she was struggling with them. Anything less would make him suspicious after her initial hostility. "It's not the truth," she argued.

Faison shrugged his shoulders in an atypical gesture of indifference. "You'll realize it eventually, Anna. When you're ready. You'd be surprised how liberating the truth can be."

Alex observed him, noticing that he was still tense, long after he no longer needed the deep concentration required during his martial arts practice.

There was something on his mind.

"Something's bothering you," Alex pointed out, testing to see whether her instincts were right.

The look he gave her in return was one of slight irritation, like that of child caught in the act of sneaking in a candy bar before dinner.

"It's work," he replied. "Nothing important."

"You don't get upset easily. It _must_ be important."

Alex couldn't discern whether his next glance was one of irritation or grudging admiration.

"You know me better than you admit," he acknowledged.

"So what's on your mind?"

"It's not important," he repeated. "Important is that you're sitting here, next to me."

Alex tensed. "You'd be surprised how liberating it is to share your problems with a friend."

Faison chuckled. "I didn't think we were friends."

"Seeing as you probably don't have many, maybe I can make do."

Faison eyed her, his hand moving onto her thigh. Alex pushed it off.

"Your wound," he explained. "It's bleeding."

Alex stared at the skirt that Olga had helped her put on, its cream coloured fabric stained bright red. "It's alright."

"No," he shook his head. "You should lie back down. I will get Viktor."

Alex gave him an angry glare. "I'm so tired of sleeping and being drugged and fed like an invalid. I'm hurt, Faison, not sick." She glanced at the blood seeping through the fabric. "_This_ will heal."

Faison managed another smile. One that was mildly amused this time. "It will heal if you don't push yourself, Anna." He stood up, handing her the crutches. "Let's walk to the living room, so I can bring you something to eat. Viktor tells me you've barely eaten anything all week. You won't get your strength back like that." He smirked, "I would hate for you to lack the energy to give me a hard time."

She grasped the crutches, her head spinning as she stood back up, validating Faison's point.

Just as he noticed everything else about her, he sensed her light-headedness the moment it hit her.

"Let go of the crutches," he instructed her, moving his body alongside hers, wrapping his arms around her.

It was an intimacy that repulsed her.

"_Let go_, Anna," he repeated, his voice hypnotic.

Before she could protest he scooped her up into his arms.

"Stop fighting me, Anna," he said, his words as gentle as his touch. "Let me take care of you."

He carried her with ease, his bare feet moving soundlessly across the candlelit exercise room.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

_Auberge Augustin, Paris, France_

_Three days later_

_-_

Dimitri lit his third cigarette in as many hours, promising himself it would be the last of the day.

Anna eyed him through the haze, rubbing her eyes. "I never knew you smoked."

Sean Donely couldn't resist a sarcastic look at her. "There are two Dimitri Maricks, sweetheart, haven't you realized that yet? Which one we see depends on whether Alex is around or not."

Anna groaned, tearing her eyes away from the computer screen. "Sean...come on, don't start this again."

Dimitri exhaled, giving Sean a look that was beyond irritated. "I'd love to show you the other one again sometime, Mr. Donely. Of course, according to your reasoning, that would mean finding my wife...a task you've proven incapable of."

Dan O'Toole entered the room, waving the smoke away. "Could you open the window, Mr. Marick?"

Sean chuckled.

Dimitri ignored both of them and moved towards Anna. "What's that?" he asked pointing at her computer screen.

"It's a list of aliases that we believe Faison uses, I'm trying to correlate them with forged passport numbers and hopefully trace any recent activities."

"This one," Dimitri said, his index finger pointing to the name on the screen. "_Markus Mittermeier_. I've _seen_ this name before."

"You have? It's not one of his most commonly used aliases."

Dimitri narrowed his brows in concentration. "A day after Alex was kidnapped, the investigators I hired started combing flight manifests. Not just from Orly and Charles de Gaulle but from every local airport within a 50-mile radius of Paris."

"That's a painstaking task," Anna admitted. "And? They found something?"

"No, they didn't find anything," Dimitri shook his head. "If they had I would have let you know. I asked them to notify me of anything remotely suspicious and this name, I swear it was on a manifest…"

He caught Sean's attention. "You realize what you're saying, right? That one your investigators might have tracked Faison's movements out of Paris that night."

"It's a common German name, Sean," Anna added. "There must have been dozens of flights out of Paris to German speaking destinations that day. Hundreds of passengers on commercial flights."

"The name is Austrian not German," Dimitri corrected her. "And this name wasn't on a commercial flight."

"Where was it?" Dan asked.

"There was a private jet that flew out of a small airfield north of Paris that night and the reason my investigators brought it to my attention was because the plane took off shortly after Alex's kidnapping and the manifest consisted of three men, one woman and the pilot."

He had Sean's undivided attention now. "Go on."

"But in the end everything checked out. The woman was a business associate of the man in question. They were bankers flying back after a meeting in Paris. The plane flew into Frankfurt. Everything checked out and was legit. Which is why I didn't mention anything to you or have my men pursue it."

"You're absolutely certain that was the name in question?" Anna pressed. "Markus Mittermeier?"

Dimitri put out his cigarette. "Not absolutely, no. But I can call my investigators and have them go back to the manifests they filed. I'll know within the hour. Why?"

Anna eyed Sean, before turning back to Dimitri. "Markus Mittermeier is not one Faison's most frequently used aliases because is a very busy, respectable man. He's, like you said, _very_ legit."

Dimitri looked at her. "I'm not following you…you said he's an alias. That means he doesn't actually _exist_."

"Oh, he exists. He's very real," Sean cut in. "As are most of Faison's aliases. Why do you think we're having such a hard time finding him?"

"They're what we believe are cases of CIT," Anna explained. "_Consenting identity_ _theft_."

Dimitri was still puzzled. "I'm not following you."

Sean took out his wallet. "What if I gave you my credit card, Mr. Marick. Said, 'here you go, take it and go and buy something at the nearest store.' In this day and age, it's a piece of cake, credit card theft happens every few seconds. No one looks at the signature or the photo on the back. What if, two hours after your purchase, I decide to track Sean Donely's credit card. It'll say that I was at this store buying a pack of cigarettes, even though I wasn't. _You were, _Mr. Marick. Are you following me now?"

Dimitri's frowned. "So you're saying Faison borrows these people's identities." He questioned Anna, "_With their_ _knowledge_?"

"Yes," Anna answered. "Tracking and profiling his aliases has been one of my primary focuses at Interpol. Here…take a look at this."

Dimitri watched as she typed in something to change the screen he was viewing. A picture of a balding, middle-aged Caucasian man came up on the screen.

"He looks nothing like Faison," Dimitri told her.

"Irrelevant," Anna explained. "On the rare instances when he travels under Mittermeier's name, Faison would have fake ID with his own photos on it."

Dimitri stared at the screen, wide-eyed. The man in question was a prominent German banker. Vice-president of the Frankfurt-Main Kreditanstalt. Born of Austrian parents who immigrated to Germany in the sixties, Markus Mittermeier was also the head of a charitable organization for blind children.

"Everything there says he's a pillar of society," Dimitri pointed out. "Why in the world would he let a criminal like Faison _borrow_ his identity?"

"Could be any of number of reasons," Anna explained. "The primary one for most of his aliases is money. Cesar Faison pays these men considerable sums of money to borrow their names when he needs to. In the case of Markus Mittermeier, it's probably blackmail. Faison is very good at extortion and I have no doubts he's holding something over this man's head. The research I've done shows Mittermeier making several trips to Thailand a year. We could be talking about sex with minors…or worse."

Dimitri was dumbfounded. "But _if _Faison used this guy's identity on that day, the day he left Paris with Alex, wouldn't there be some way to track the _real_ Markus Mittermeier's activities to see whether he was actually here in Paris on legitimate business as himself or whether he was elsewhere?"

"There is," Sean piped in. "That's what Anna's been doing."

"I can run a double check on Mittermeier on the Interpol database," Dan offered, his Irish accent softening the harsh, German name.

Anna bit her nail when she saw Dimitri's hopeful expression. "It's not always that simple. If Faison used the Mittermeier alias that day, he would have been aware of it. Faison would have _instructed_ Mittermeier to lay low. That's how it works and that's why most of his aliases are low profile individuals. Small time crooks…people with few family members and even fewer friends. If Faison really used Mittermeier's name that day, it means he _needed_ it. It means he needed the banker's influence for some reason, whether it was to speed things up at customs or expedite his arrival in Germany."

"So what are you saying? Tracking him is pointless?"

"No, she's saying we need to make sure that _is_ the name you caught on one of your passenger manifests, so we can start digging deeper and go from there," Sean told him.

"Where are your investigators now?" Anna asked.

Dimitri dug for his cell phone in his jacket pocket. "I'll let you know in a second."

Sean and Anna listened as he spoke to someone in Hungarian. When he ended the conversation Dimitri turned back to them. "They're at the _Gare _Saint Lazare looking into possibilities that Faison might have left by train. I told them to fax me the airline manifest from that airfield as soon as possible."

Anna bit her lip, trying to figure out what the use of Mittermeier's name could mean. If it the alias was the correct one, Dimitri's accidental glance at her computer screen could result in their first genuine lead. It might even give them Faison's destination the night he escaped with Alex.

The thought sent a burst of adrenaline through her veins.

"Maybe I can speed things up and meet them halfway?" Anna suggested. "I'd like to speak to them about how they obtained the info." She caught Sean's cynical look from the corner of her eye. She knew he was still irritated that Dimitri had launched a completely independent investigation into Alex's kidnapping.

"_If Marick insists on bringing in his own men, the least he can do is have them join forces with us, rather than run around and do their own thing. It's counterproductive…and stupid," he'd complained a couple of days ago._

"_It's his business," Anna had replied. "It's his wife, and his right." _

"_It's like shooting yourself in the foot to prove a point," Sean had disagreed._

Anna knew it would irk Sean if it turned out that Dimitri's investigators were the ones who tracked Faison on the night of the kidnapping.

"Be my guest," Dimitri replied. "I need to come along then. They won't see you without me."

"I was hoping you could stay here this morning, Mr. Marick," Dan O'Toole cut in. "I need your help establishing a potential list of contacts for Alex."

"Contacts?" Dimitri didn't understand.

"In the event that Alex has a chance to touch base with someone, other than you or Anna. Friends, acquaintances…you name it I want to put together a list of potential contacts."

"She'd contact me first chance she got," Dimitri told him incredulously. "Me or Andrei. No one else."

"Sometimes when a person is under great stress, the people they choose to reach out to are often not the ones we expect…" Dan tried to explain, but Sean cut him off.

"Look, will you just humour him?" he told Dimitri. "O'Toole's trying everything he can to make sure we're prepared for all possibilities. In the meantime, just call your investigators and explain to them that Anna's going to see them and that it's important. It's about damn time they started working with us anyway."

Anna pushed her chair back, getting up and glancing at Dan while rolling her eyes. "Let me know when you're done with your daily 'mine is bigger than yours' contest. I'll be outside."

"Anna…come on…" Sean started.

"No, really. If I have to listen to one more pointless argument between the two of you, I'll lose it."

"Alex is not going to contact anyone but us," Dimitri reiterated. "I don't see why we need to waste time on this…"

"Right," Anna glared at him. "That's why Dan is asking you to do this. To waste your time." She grabbed a key. "You let me know when you're ready to come with me to see your investigators. I'll be downstairs."

Anna didn't bother waiting for a reply.

She left the room, slamming the door behind her.

_Anna's Apartment, Paris_

_-_

Sandrine Mutanga rang the doorbell. She waited several seconds and when no one answered, she rang it a second time.

Her heart jumped when a female voice answered through the intercom.

"_La porte est ouverte." _

The voice sounded young. Friendly.

'It has to be Robin,' Sandrine thought, nervously pushing a handful of braids behind her ears. Anna had phoned her this morning asking her to retrieve a computer disc she left at home, and since Anna's apartment was on the way from Sandrine's hotel to the Auberge, she'd agreed.

It hadn't occurred to her that Robin might be there.

"David will probably be at home with Leah," Anna had told her this morning, during the phone call. "I'll tell him you're coming and call the landlord to let you in, in the event that he's not."

Already then, the thought of catching a glimpse of Anna's home life had formed a knot in her stomach. Sandrine had no intention of getting close to Anna Devane, much less forming a friendship with her. In spite of a her nagging curiosity, Sandrine decided that the less she knew about Robert's ex-wife, the better.

Still, the thought of seeing David Hayward had intrigued her. 'I want to see Robert's replacement,' Sandrine thought. 'I want to see whether he'll make it difficult for Anna to choose. If she were ever given a choice...'

Sandrine frowned. She couldn't imagine Anna choosing anyone but Robert if she knew he were alive. 'Not that it matters,' Sandrine had decided. 'I'll fight for him and you won't win. No matter who _you_ choose.'

She had steeled herself for meeting David Hayward but she wasn't prepared to come face to face with Robert's daughter.

Not yet.

Now Sandrine stood in the apartment's lobby, thinking of excuses to leave the building. 'I can tell Anna I had another errand to run, that I didn't have time to get her disc…'

"_Puis-je vous aider?"_ a voice behind her asked, startling her.

It was an elderly man with a moustache and a plump, pleasant face. The landlord, Sandrine deduced.

"_Non," _Sandrine gave him a nervous smile. _"Non, merci." _

She was about to head for the door when a young woman came down the stairs.

"Are you Sandrine?" the woman with Anna's eyes asked.

Sandrine took a deep, startled breath. "I am… yes."

"Mom said you were coming by to pick up a disc," the woman smiled. Robert's smile. "She told me where it was and to give it to you, but I'm having trouble finding it."

Sandrine met her eyes with reluctance. "It's okay…I'll tell Anna that..."

"Hang on a sec," the young woman furrowed her brows, just as Sandrine had seen Anna do when she was concentrating. "There's one place I didn't think to look."

Sandrine held up her hand. "No, really, it's alright. You don't have to go to the trouble…"

Robin smirked. "It's no trouble." Her smirk changed into an embarrassed smile, "I'm sorry, I didn't even introduce myself. I'm Robin." Robert's daughter held out her hand and Sandrine shook it. "Mom told me you're helping her and Sean with…" Robin's eyes scanned the staircase, as if looking for eavesdroppers. "With, well, you know what…"

"Anna told me about you too," Sandrine admitted. It was a modest lie. Anna had mentioned her daughters on occasion, but most of what she knew about Robin, Sandrine had learned from Robert.

Robin sported a pair of well-worn blue jeans and a white t-shirt, and bare, tanned feet in a pair of leather flip-flops. She looked like a student catching a study break.

"Why don't you come upstairs for a sec, while I have another look for the disc," Robin offered.

Sandrine shook her head. "No, I can wait here."

Robin pushed a strand of hair behind her ears. "Nah, don't be silly. Come on upstairs."

There was a natural congeniality about her that was hard to resist. Physically she was her mother's daughter, sporting the same dark hair and eyes, and an even smaller, athletic frame. Yet when she smiled, Sandrine saw only Robert.

Sandrine followed her up the stairs in silence, watching as she opened the doors to her apartment.

"Are you looking after your sister?" Sandrine asked.

Robin shook her head. "No…I came by last night to have dinner with David and Leah and it got late, so I ended up staying the night. Now he's gone out to the park with her. I was about to head out too, when Mom called letting me know you're coming by." Robin threw off her flip-flops. "Wait one second and I'll check Mom's purse. I think she took a different one this morning and I think that's where she might have left the disc you're looking for…"

Sandrine said nothing as she watched Robin leave the room, using the chance to observe her surroundings. Like Robert's daughter, the apartment was warm and surprisingly inviting. Hardwood floors were softened with colourful rugs and simple Scandinavian furniture and the sunlight that burst through the bay windows dominated the room. Baby toys were scattered messily on the floor, candles in colourful holders lined the windowsill and a vase full of bright, fresh flowers stood on the kitchen table. The warmth and brightness of the room surprised her and made her smile.

'What did you expect?' she thought, 'Stark, intense colours and bold modern art to go with Anna's personality?'

Once again Anna managed to surprise her.

Sandrine's gaze drifted towards the three photographs on the wall unit.

The first was of Robin, Anna and Leah. All three Devanes were smiling and Anna looked far happier than Sandrine imagined her capable of being.

The second was a picture of Alex and Dimitri and a teenager, whom Sandrine deduced was their son, standing next to a beautiful black horse in the countryside.

The third picture was the one that caught Sandrine's attention.

It was visibly older than the other two. Robin Scorpio must have been about eight or nine years old in the photo. She was flanked on both sides by her young parents.

Sandrine moved close enough so that her hand touched the photo, her index finger running along the silver frame.

"Mom was a bit younger there, wasn't' she?" Robin asked out of the blue, making Sandrine jerk back. She didn't hear her approach.

Robin handed her a clear case containing the disc Anna had sent her to retrieve.

"You see, it's exactly where I thought it would be," Robin told her. "And not at all where Mom thought it would be. Sometimes I wonder how she finds anything with the mess she has…"

"Is that your father?" Sandrine asked, pointing towards the photo.

Robin nodded, her easy smile fading. "Yeah, it is."

Distracted by the photo, Sandrine didn't catch Robin observing her.

"It's funny...you look at him like you know him."

Sandrine turned around, surprised by her observation. "I…I know him because I remember that was going to be director of the Bureau. A long time ago. I have seen his photograph."

Robin picked up the picture, holding it her hand. "Right. I forget you're WSB too."

_What would you do if you knew I was standing next to your daughter, Robert?_

"Do you miss him still?" Sandrine asked.

Robin nodded. "Yeah… I miss him still. Every day."

Sandrine put a hand on Robin's shoulder, wanting to shout out the truth. "I'm sorry."

Robin smiled, "It's weird. Dad doesn't usually come up in my first conversation with someone I don't know."

Sandrine blushed. "It is my fault. I'm sorry, I should not have said anything when I saw the photo."

"No, no…" Robin corrected her. "It's okay. It's weird. I just get this feeling that you're…"

"What?"

Robin smiled. "Nothing. It's silly." She set the silver-framed picture back on the wall unit. "I do miss him," she said. "I miss him because I know if he were here things would be different."

"Different?"

"Well," Robin's gaze drifted back to the other photo. "I mean, aside from the obvious. Leah might not be around." She grinned. "Or there might be a few Leahs around. Don't get me wrong…I believe things happen for a reason and I wouldn't give up my little sister for anything. And I like David, he's a great Dad to Leah."

"But you think if your father were still around, things would be different?" Sandrine pressed. She had a sudden burning need to know what exactly Robin meant.

Robin bit her lip, just as Sandrine had seen Anna do on occasion. "Mom's really headstrong," Robin grinned. "I bet you've noticed that already. She pushes herself really hard. Dad's the only person I knew who could ever…"

Sandrine watched her search for the words.

"I'm not sure how to explain it, but he's the only one who could… _rein her in_. He was her rock, _her safety_, and when he was around I never worried about Mom like I do now, 'cause I knew Dad would find a way to make things right. He was the only one who could stand up to her bullheadedness. He was her equal in a way that no one else will ever be."

"He was the only one strong enough for her," Sandrine finished for Robin. "That is what you want to say."

This time it was Robin who blushed. "I'm not sure I know _what_ I'm trying to say. I'm just rambling… I really shouldn't be saying all this. Mom would have a fit." She grinned. "So would David."

Even so, Robin Scorpio couldn't resist a final glance at the photo. "Honestly, most days," she added. "I miss Dad for more selfish reasons. I want him to know how I am. I wonder whether he'd agree with my decision to study medicine…or if he'd be disappointed that I didn't follow in his footsteps."

"He would be very proud," Sandrine told her.

Robin shrugged her shoulders, "Maybe. Medicine isn't exactly a Scorpio thing. At least I didn't think it was until we met Alex, and, then, all of sudden I didn't feel like the apple fell so far from the tree anymore." She gave her an embarrassed smile. "I'm rambling again. I guess we'll never know what he would have thought."

Sandrine smiled at her. Robin possessed all of Anna's warmth without the intensity that cooled it. Instead of her mother's force, she had her father's easygoing charm. It was the best of both worlds.

'I understand now, Robert' she thought sadly. 'I understand why you didn't want to know about Robin's life. About how she was doing…because if you knew anything more than the simple pictures you got every few months, you wouldn't have been able to stay away from her.'

"Mom says you're from Kinshasa," Robin said, wanting to change the subject.

Sandrine nodded.

"When I finish my studies and my residency, I want to go to Africa with _Medecins sans Frontieres,_ to work with AIDS patients."

Sandrine's eyes widened, unable to imagine why a beautiful young woman would leave Paris to immerse herself in the hell that was AIDS in Africa.

"AIDS has devastated my country," Sandrine told her. "Not only the Congo but most of Central and Southern Africa."

"I know."

Sandrine shook her head sadly. "No. You do not know."

Robin Scorpio had no idea. She hadn't seen hungry, orphaned children sleep on city streets because they had no more relatives left to care for them. Nor had she seen rural schools close down because their teachers, stricken by the disease, were no longer physically capable of teaching. And she didn't know what it was like to live in dying villages where coffin makers had the only thriving business.

Sandrine loathed the insidious disease for taking Africa's most vital people and killing them slowly and painfully. Even more so, she hated the pharmaceutical giants of that wouldn't provide Africa with the readily available drugs to treat the early stages of the disease, simply because her people couldn't afford them.

No one living in the comforts and security of the Western world could really, truly understand. Especially not the young, idealistic medical student standing in front of her.

Sandrine wasn't sure she _wanted _Robert's daughter to understand.

Robin's expression grew sombre. "You're right. I don't know, but I do know it's what I want to do. I've known for a while now."

Sandrine gave her a silent smile. Robin was so young and beautiful. She would change her mind, no doubt. If she didn't, she might make as far as Africa, but she wouldn't be there long. Few idealists were.

"I should go," Sandrine told her. She didn't want to. She wanted to stay here. To spend time with the only daughter of the only man she had ever loved. There were countless questions she wanted to ask. But now wasn't the time. "Thank you…for finding the disc for me. I'm sure Anna will appreciate it."

"No problem," Robin replied. "I'd help more, if Mom would let me. Anything to get Alex back."

'Not just Alex,' Sandrine thought, hating that Robin couldn't know. 'I wish I could tell you, but I won't until I know your father is alive. I won't have you lose him twice.'

Robin opened the door for her, and when she did Sandrine suddenly noticed a handful of pill containers on the coffee table.

Her eyes widened and she stopped dead in her tracks.

"Can I ask you something, Robin?"

Robin nodded, "Sure."

"Is your mother ill?" Sandrine's gaze was fixated on the medication containers. There must have been nearly a dozen. They looked like prescriptions and Sandrine wondered whether her earlier suspicions had been correct. Whether Anna's exhausted state and the frequent headaches she tried to hide from the others didn't indicate something more serious.

If Anna _was_ ill, Robert had a right to know.

'Even if it changes everything,' she thought, hating the thoughts that ran through her mind.

"Sick?" Robin narrowed her brows with concern. "No. Mom's been pretty stressed lately but she's not sick. Why do you ask?"

Sandrine's eyes went back to the containers. "I thought because of those…"

Robin saw what she was looking at. Unexpectedly embarrassed. "They're not my mother's. They're mine."

Sandrine raised her eyebrows_. "Yours?"_ Robin didn't look anything but glowingly healthy.

"I have HIV," she explained. "The pills are part of a drug cocktail I take to prevent the virus from becoming full-blown AIDS."

"You are HIV positive?" the words chocked in Sandrine's throat. _Robert's daughter_ _had HIV?_

Robin nodded, visibly uncomfortable for the first time since Sandrine entered the apartment.

Sensing her unease, Sandrine composed herself. "I'm sorry…I didn't know. Anna never mentioned…"

"I don't like to advertise it," Robin told her, shifting her balance from one bare foot to the next. "People have preconceptions that I can't always be bothered to clarify."

Sandrine blushed. 'Including ones like the stunned reaction I just had.'

"It's okay…for the most part I'm healthy." Robin's gaze shifted to the pills. "Thanks to the protocol."

Sandrine didn't know what to say. "You…you _look_ healthy."

"That's a good thing," Robin raised her chin, smirking.

Robert's daughter was HIV positive. Sandrine couldn't get the notion out of her head. If he knew, he wouldn't be able to stay out of her life. Even if Anna no longer did, _Robin_ needed him.

Sandrine wanted to crawl out of her skin. Her fingers tightened on the computer disc she held in her hand. She had just told Robin she had no idea what living with AIDS meant, when she herself was HIV positive.

"I should really go," Sandrine repeated, feeling uncomfortable.

Robin nodded, sensing her discomfort. "Sure. Tell Mom I said hi."

"I will."

Sandrine didn't look back when she left the apartment, taking the stairs down as fast as her legs allowed.

'I saw your daughter,' she thought, the words echoing in her mind. 'I saw your daughter today and found out she has HIV.'

She often told herself the past didn't matter. That it was gone forever and that Anna and Robin had new lives now. Lives that no longer needed the man she loved.

Sandrine half-ran outside, onto the sidewalk, almost bumping into an old lady who scowled in return.

'It's not true,' she thought, wiping a sudden tear from her face. 'You daughter does need you, and, no matter how much you love me, you'll never choose me over her. _Never._'

_Near the Auberge Augustin, Paris_

_-_

Anna adjusted her sunglasses as she leaned against the hotel's brick façade, enjoying the sun's warmth against her skin while waiting for Dimitri.

It felt good to be away from the endless tension that filled the air in their makeshift office.

'If I have to listen to one more squabble between Sean and Dimitri, I might have to kill one of them,' she decided, closing her eyes in the warmth.

"Hey…"

Anna felt someone touch her arm and she was surprised to see Sean standing next to her.

"Where's Dimitri?"

"He stayed upstairs with Dan. He's going to give him the list of some of Alex's old friends." Sean lifted the corner of his lips into a trace of a smile. "He also called his investigators to let them know we're coming to meet them."

"You and I?"

"Investigator to investigator. It's better that way."

"Dimitri was fine with that?" Anna asked him sceptically.

Sean put an arm around her shoulders, gesturing for them to start walking, "You bet. I didn't even have to punch him out this time."

Anna rolled her eyes. "Not funny. Next time we see you two go at it, Dan and I won't bother to intervene."

"Good," he replied, as they headed down the busy sidewalk. "Marick is a jerk who's out to blame you for everything that's happened since Faison got Alex. I don't know why you keep defending him."

"Because he's my sister's husband."

"Right. That excuses everything."

Anna was puzzled when he deftly led her into the patio of a crowded bistro. "Where are you going?" she demanded.

"We're going to eat," he said, pulling out a white, plastic chair for her.

Anna raised her sunglasses to look at him, "Are you crazy? We just got the biggest potential lead so far and you want to have lunch?"

"Dinner," he corrected her, sitting down. "It's almost six o'clock."

Anna put her hands on her hips making no move to do the same. "Look if you want to have dinner. Fine. Me, I have work to do."

"We've been cooped up in the room since early morning. We're not meeting these investigators until we've had a break," Sean told her, suddenly sounding like he was giving orders. It reminded her of a time long ago when he was her instructor and she was his student. "You've barely eaten two bites since this morning. You get headaches that are far more frequent that you admit to anyone…what do you want, Anna? To have another break down?"

Anna stared at him angrily. "Excuse me, but _where_ is this coming from?"

"Sit down and have a meal with me," he said, unaffected by her angry glare. "Spend thirty minutes not thinking about Faison and then we'll go and meet Dimitri's guys. When we're refreshed and alert."

"_Madame?"_ a waiter in a white shirt and black bow tie approached her with a questioning look.

"_Sit down, Anna_," Sean ordered her.

"Fine," she conceded with a scowl. "If you think we'll die without dinner."

"_Nous prenons le table d'hote pour deux,"_ Sean told the waiter, ignoring her.

"_Le porc ou l'agneau?"_

"_L'agneau, s'il vous plait. Et deux verres de vin rouge."_

"You like lamb, don't you?" Sean asked her after the waiter left.

Anna shot him back an irritated glance. "Does it matter?"

"Sweetheart, look," he started, his voice softening. "Contrary to what you might think, I'm not trying to hamper our investigation. God knows no one feels more responsible for what happened to Alex than I do. But we need to get away for thirty minutes once a day, to eat a decent meal and get our minds off your sister and Faison. Because if this lead pans out, you know we won't get any sleep tonight."

Anna glanced at her silver Raymond Weil watch. "Fine. Thirty minutes."

Sean smirked. "Thanks... I think. "

Anna sank back into the chair. Realizing the futility of trying to argue with him, she began to relax in the warmth of the late afternoon sun.

"This could be huge, Sean," she mumbled. "If that was Faison on that plane leaving the airfield, it means we finally have a starting point…"

Sean pointed to his watch. "Thirty minutes," he reminded her. "We said no business for thirty minutes."

Anna shook her head and sighed. "Fine. I give up…tell me, how's Tiffany doing? I heard you speaking with her on the phone this morning."

The waiter came by with two well-rounded glasses of red wine.

"She's good. She's suspicious because I've been in Paris longer that I told her I would be. I'm not sure she believes my excuses."

"Reporter's instincts?"

"Something like that." Sean took a sip of wine. "She's also dying to see Leah."

Anna's shoulder's dropped. "I'd like that. I'd like to see her again. Like old times." 'When this madness ends,' she wanted to add.

"Speaking of loved ones, have you ever noticed the way O'Toole looks at you?"

"What?"

"I think he's got a crush on you."

Anna raised her eyebrows. "No, he doesn't. We work well together. That's all."

Sean took a sip of his wine. "Trust me. He likes you. Granted it's not the first thing on your mind these days, but would that be so bad?"

"He's a nice guy," Anna admitted. "But things are…they're good right now with David. I think maybe, there's a chance we might try and make it work."

Anna could have sworn she saw a trace of disappointment in his face.

"I see," He rubbed his chin, "I can't say I'm crazy about Hayward from what I've seen but…" Anna watched as his features softened. "If he makes you happy."

"He does," Anna smiled. "He has the ability to push my buttons like no one else, but when things are good Sean, they're _really_ _good_. Leah reminds me of that every day."

Anna watched as Sean's eyes lit up. "In that case, I'm happy for you, sweetheart. You deserve it."

Sean clinked his glass against hers. "To happy endings."

Anna's eyes darkened. She lifted the glass against his, hoping someone heard his words. "Especially for Alex."

Anna took a sip of the wine, her gaze drifting across the busy patio onto the sidewalk crowds. In the instant that she raised her head, her eyes met with those of a pedestrian walking by.

He was a tall, thin man. A pair of wire-rimmed glasses made his angular face look longer than it already was and when he stared at her, Anna had an eerie feeling of déjà vu.

'I _know_ you from somewhere,' she thought, watching the man dart nervously from her view.

Like all spies, Anna's recollection for faces and details was impeccable. After only a few minutes with someone, Anna knew she would be able to pick that same person out in a crowded room years later. It was a necessary skill in a profession where the tiniest detail could mean the difference between detection and camouflage. Between life and death.

Anna stood up, her eyes following the stranger as he made his way down the sidewalk.

His long legs had quickened their pace and he was half running now, no longer looking in her direction.

"Anna, what are you looking at?" she heard Sean ask.

"That man…"

Anna went back in time. To the day she sat down on that park bench, nauseated from morning sickness.

She went back to the stranger that had stopped to ask her whether she was alright.

'That day I thought it was strange that this man was there at the exact moment I thought I might pass out…unless…'

A realization hit her like a brick wall.

_Unless he knew because he was following me._

"Anna what is it?" Sean's voice sounded distant and far away.

_There was someone following me back then, when I was pregnant. Now I know that someone was Faison_. _What if this man was with him_?

Anna moved away from the table, trying hard to keep the man in sight, knocking over her glass of red wine in the process.

"Anna?"

The stranger was running now and Anna followed suit, pushing a waiter out of her way as she darted out of the patio.

She heard the waiter cursing in the background as she ran down the sidewalk.

"Stop!" she yelled after the man. _"Arretez! Interpol!"_

The words had no effect. The man kept running, his long, thin legs moving surprisingly fast.

Anna didn't notice that onlookers were staring at her as she chased the man down the sidewalk, nor did she notice that Sean had caught up to her, running behind her, struggling to keep up with her pace.

"_Arretez!"_ she repeated, yelling into the crowds. It was pointless. The man had only one objective and that was to get away from her.

He was fast and fit and had she not gone jogging nearly every morning shortly after Leah's birth, Anna would've lost him already.

The man veered off the sidewalk and into the busy street. Car horns blared and a pair of tires screeched to a halt, swerving to keep from hitting him.

'Damn it,' Anna cursed under her breath, following him across four lanes of city traffic. She was so focused on her moving target, that Anna didn't notice a car careening to a halt beside her, its front bumper less than an inch away from hitting her. Her hand slammed the hood of the car, propelling her away from it, and back onto the street.

"_Anna…what the hell!?" _she heard Sean yell in the background. There was more yelling, in French, and most likely from the angry drivers who'd nearly hit both of them as they ran across the street in a zigzag.

Anna ignored them, following the fleeing man back onto the sidewalk on the other side, her breathing laboured now.

He too was getting tired and Anna noticed that his pace was slowing down. Not enough so as to allow her to catch up, but enough to allow her to _keep_ up.

The crowds thickened when they neared a subway stop and Anna cursed when she saw the throngs of commuters.

"There," she heard Sean yell behind her. "He's going down into the Metro!"

Anna pushed through the crowds, flying down the tiled staircase, two steps at a time.

Thanks to his height, the man often stood half a head taller than everyone around him, allowing Anna to keep him in her line of view.

She saw him leap over a turnstile and, to the amazement of the crowds around him, he kept running down the stairs to the train platform.

Anna followed him, slipping underneath the same turnstile the man had leapt over.

The crowds gasped and watched them excitedly. She heard someone yell, trying to stop Sean from entering the station in the same illegal fashion.

'No time to look back,' she thought, running to keep up with her target.

He was on the platform now, and for the second time during the chase, Anna almost lost sight of him, as he blended into the crowd.

There were countless commuters on the platform.

'Rush hour,' she thought, catching her breath. A train rolled into the station, slowing down as it approached the platform. 'Damn,' she thought. 'If he makes it onto the train before I spot him, I've lost him.'

Anna stopped and turned around, her eyes darting through the crowd. A woman wearing a Chanel scarf pushed her aside for daring to stop moving when everyone around her headed for the train's doors. The woman gave her a look of disdain, muttering, "_Touriste_…" under her breath.

And just then Anna spied him again.

She saw him leaving the platform, about to go back up the stairs, in the opposite direction of the crowds that had started to enter the train.

'Nice try,' she thought, elbowing a businessman, who stood in front of her, blocking her way.

"Sorry," she mumbled, starting into a run again.

By the time she reached the staircase, Anna saw him near the top, and she darted up two steps at a time.

'Sean' she thought, 'Where did he go?' He had been behind her, but she must have lost him on the crowded subway platform.

It didn't matter. The man was still within her view.

The fact that he desperately didn't want to get caught only strengthened her belief that he was somehow linked to Faison. That he had been complicit somehow, all those months ago, when Faison had stalked her.

Anna pushed her legs to go faster, relieved to see that the man was slowing down.

He thought he'd lost her, when in fact she was rapidly gaining on him.

After leaving the subway station, the man came to a stop, turning over his shoulder to see whether he had shaken his pursuer.

It was an unexpected action and Anna used it to her advantage, making a final dash in his direction before lunging at him, tossing him to the ground.

If she were to stand a chance against him, both unarmed and alone, the element of surprise was her only advantage.

His shock at her attack didn't last long. He fought her off, pushing her onto the concrete sidewalk, and for the first time, Anna got a good look at him.

He was thinner and paler than she thought, his arms long and bony, giving his entire frame an insect-like quality. Nonetheless, his spindly arms were surprisingly strong.

"You're under arrest," she spat out in French, still catching her breath from that last dash. "I'm an officer with Interpol."

The man said nothing, kicking her square in the stomach when she tried to jump back to her feet.

The kick knocked the wind out of her, and the man used that moment to regain his balance, and stand back up, ready to resume his run.

He was about to do just that when Anna's foot got in between his, causing him to trip and fall back down.

"I don't _think_ so," she gasped.

He was about to launch a punch, which Anna blocked with ease, replacing it with a kick of her own.

He knew _how_ to fight, she realized. But he wasn't a fighter.

His wire-rimmed glassed were smashed on the ground next to him, and Anna suddenly noticed that a small crowd of onlookers had gathered around them.

Again, he used her split second distraction to his advantage and kicked her a second time. It was a more precise, forceful kick and it took her breath away.

Instead of helping, the crowd gasped in disbelief at what was taking place in front of them.

Anna watched as the man got back up, and she forced herself to do the same, lunging at him a second time, just as he was about to run off.

The act caused both of them to crash to the ground again. This time the man rolled her over as soon as they hit the concrete. Knowing he was aiming for a third punch, Anna beat him to it with a sharp knee into his groin, making him cry out lout and crash his weight on top of her like a sack of potatoes.

Anna winced, using her arms to push him off. He was about to jump back onto his feet, when a man from behind sent the edge of his hand crashing down onto the stranger's neck.

The sudden, well placed pressure on the man's jugular vein was enough to knock him almost unconscious.

"Sean," Anna mumbled. "Thank god."

He held out his hand for her, helping her back to her feet, while the man crumbled into a heap alongside her.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she managed a lopsided smile. "Glad to see you though. It's about damn time you caught up."

He stared at her in disbelief and whispered into her ear. "Anna, who the hell is this guy and why are we chasing him through Paris?"

Anna shook her head, still catching her breath. "I don't know _exactly_…but I think he works for Faison. He followed me months ago, when I was pregnant."

"_Qu'est-ce que vous faites avec lui?" _someone from the crowd suddenly emerged, demanding what was going on.

Sean flashed his WSB badge, telling them to disperse.

Seeing their reluctance, he scowled.

"_Maintenant! "_

Most of them realized he meant it and they left the scene, one by one. A few turned around and kept staring, from a distance.

Sean turned back to Anna. "You think he works for Faison? If he does, what are we going to do with him?" he demanded. "If we stay here the police will be here any moment. Someone in the crowd is bound to have called for help. And if we take him into police custody what the hell are our charges?" Sean looked at her. "Do we even know his name?"

"No, no police," Anna told him. "If he really does work for Faison he'll be free within minutes. _And_ we'll have blown Alex's cover."

Sean nodded in agreement. "Then _what_?"

The man lying on the floor groaned and shakily made his way back onto his knees, rubbing his neck.

"The Auberge," Anna told him. "We take him back to the Auberge."

Sean looked at her incredulously. "Anna, this is crazy! It's kidnapping!"

Anna knelt down next to the man, ignoring his remarks.

"Who are you?" she demanded, her eyes boring into his. "I know you work for Faison, you might as well spare yourself the trouble and tell me truth!"

-

Jan Holstrom stared directly at her.

He remembered well those same eyes he'd locked with his all those months ago, when she sat on the park bench, pregnant and sick.

Jan managed a feeble smile and said nothing.

His neck and shoulder were numb and his brief brush into unconsciousness had left him nauseated. His groin throbbed, and he noticed that one of his shirt sleeves was torn and bloodied from a scratch on his elbow.

"You can tell me now or you can wait until we force it out of you," she insisted. She looked as messy as he did, her hair was dishevelled, her clothes dirtied from their sidewalk struggle and her silver watchband barely concealed a bloody scratch on her left wrist.

'Faison will never believe it,' Jan thought morbidly. 'Never. He'll never believe that all my crazy suspicions were right. That the woman with him at Alexei Estate isn't Anna Devane. It's her twin sister. Of all the ironies in the world,' Jan thought with a pained smile, 'Me. _I'm _the one who accidentally runs into Anna in Paris.'

He felt a man's grip under his armpit, yanking him up into a standing position. It was the same man who had hit him in the neck.

"_Tu parles anglais?"_ Sean asked him.

"He speaks English, trust me," Anna answered for him, reaching into his jacket to pull out a wallet and search for some form of ID. Her eyes widening when she opened his wallet, "Jan Holstrom…I knew it! Sean, I've connected this name to Faison more than once…"

"You are mistaking me for someone else," Jan Holstrom finally spat out, with a hint of a Scandinavian accent in his otherwise flawless English. "I have never seen you before, and I don't know why you have chased me and are now going through my belongings, but when I contact my lawyer you will regret this deeply..."

"Spare me. Innocent men don't run," Sean told him.

The sound of sirens approaching made Anna cringe.

"We have to get out of here, or else we have a lot of explaining to do," Sean told her, tightening his grip on the man.

"The Auberge," she repeated. "Let's take him there."

"Fine," Sean nodded and pushed Jan ahead of him. "Unlike Anna, I'm armed," he informed him by whispering into his ear. "If you make the slightest commotion or the slightest attempt to get away, _you_ will regret it, do you understand?"

Anna hailed a taxi, and in one swift move, Sean pushed Jan inside.

"_Auberge Augustin_," he ordered the driver. _"On est presse."_

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow, Russia_

_-_

"Check mate."

Alex toppled the black king after she moved her rook in front of it. Backed by both her knight and queen, Faison's king was trapped.

"You're right. It is," Faison conceded defeat with a smile. "Good game."

Alex smiled. She was getting good at his favourite pastime and judging from the surprise on his face during the last few games, Alex doubted he still let her win as he'd done before. She might not have had Anna's mind for strategy, but when it came down to it, chess was about logic and precision, two things her analytical mind could master with relative ease. 'It's good to know that if I ever get back to my husband, I can finally beat him at chess…'

Alex cocked her eyebrows. "Rematch?"

Faison shook his head, pushing back his antique chair to get up from the table. "I'm not _that_ fond of losing."

Alex chuckled. "Could've fooled me."

Faison held out his hand for her. "Come let's go and find something to eat."

Alex shook her head. "Not yet. I won the game. I think I should get something in return."

Faison eyed her with amusement, sitting back down. "What would you like?"

Alex was suddenly serious. "I want to speak to my daughter. I want Robin to know that I'm alright. I need to know how Leah is." She thought of Dimitri and Andrei, feeling an effortless tear well up in her eyes, giving Faison the effect she intended. "I miss them. I miss them so much it hurts…"

Faison's amusement faded. "I told you, you could bring them here, Anna. Anytime. I can understand that Robin would want to stay in Paris to finish her studies…but Leah should be here with you. With _us_."

"I want to talk to my daughter," she insisted.

"I won't risk them tracing the call."

Alex glared at him, "You have the technology here to make a call untraceable! I know you do. If you didn't, you wouldn't have let me call the hospital in Paris."

"You were calling a hospital switchboard! Not the one cell phone which everyone knows will be the first one you try and contact. You know _exactly_ that they would have rigged Robin's phone to trace all incoming calls by now." He looked at her with what seemed to be genuine regret. "I'm sorry, my love. I can't. Not yet."

Alex wiped the tears from her eyes. "I _need_ to know how my baby is and I need to tell the people I love that I'm alright. How can you say you love me and not understand that?"

She thought she saw his features soften, as though thinking of ways to grant her the request without risking anything.

An idea sprung in her mind, "If you're afraid that Robin's phone is rigged then let me call someone else. Someone who's family…but not close."

Faison wavered. "Who?"

Alex took a deep breath, exhilarated at the thought. "Let me call my sister's husband. Let me call Dimitri Marick."

Alex watched him hesitate.

"No one would think that I'd contact him," she explained. "Yet he's close enough to Robin to tell me how Leah is doing."

Faison shook his head. "I'm not a fool, Anna. I can't let you do this yet."

Alex clenched her fist. She was _so_ close. "You think I'm going to tell him where I am, don't you?"

"Why wouldn't you?"

"If you want me to respect you, _you_ need to start trusting me." Alex held her eyes level with his. "Even if I did know where exactly we are, _and we both know I don't_, I'm telling you that I won't give anything away. I _need_ to tell Robin that I'm okay and I need to know how Leah is doing. _Please!_"

Faison hesitated. "Fine…you can call Dimitri Marick."

Alex let her eyelids sink shut, feeling as though an enormous weight was lifted off her shoulders. "Thank you." She held out her hand to him. "_Now_. I want to make the call now."

Faison took her hand in his, helping her stand up. It was the first day Alex had abandoned the crutches and she was still unsteady on her feet.

"We'll go to the communications room."

Alex nodded. She was elated. The thought of hearing Dimitri's voice again was enough to bring another effortless tear down her face.

Alex held on to his arm as they made their way down the hallway into a small room at the end, filled with electronics and telecommunications equipment.

Faison helped her sit down, handing her a headset. He seemed anxious, as though on the verge of reversing his decision.

"Everything each of you say will be recorded…"

"I know," Alex didn't let him finish. "I also know you'll cut me off the minute I say something suspicious. I told you, I only want to tell my daughter I'm alright."

Alex caught him watching her as she entered the numbers on the keyboard.

"You know your brother-in-law's mobile number by heart?" Faison questioned.

"My sister doesn't carry a mobile phone," Alex explained. "I often contact her on Dimitri's phone." It surprised her how quickly and easily the lies rolled off her tongue now.

She drew a deep, nervous breath.

On the other end, the phone rang.

Once. Twice. Three times.

Then it was picked up.

Alex's heart skipped a beat.

"_Dimitri?"_

_-_

_***_Authors note: Thanks for your patience with this story! Upcoming chapters will be shorter and will hopefully appear more frequently!


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

_Auberge Augustin, Paris, France_

_-_

Dimitri Marick answered the cell phone on the third ring, at the same as Sandrine Mutanga stepped into the suite.

He assumed it was his investigators, calling to tell him they'd met up with Sean and Anna.

Instead the familiar voice on the other end made his knees go weak. They suddenly felt like they were made of rubber. He buckled into the nearest seat.

"Alex…is that you…?"

Dan O'Toole had noticed his stunned reaction instantly, and he waved his arms in shock, mouthing the name. _'Anna!' _

"Anna!" O'Toole repeated, with furious gestures, as Sandrine looked on. "If that's her…whatever you do _don't_ _call her Alex_!"

But the voice on the other end had already corrected him.

"Dimitri, it's me, Anna."

"Anna…yes… Anna, " Dimitri stammered. _"Are you alright?"_

"I called to tell you I'm fine," he heard her voice breaking on the other end, while O'Toole attached something to his cell phone.

"Anna…_where are you_?"

There was a pause and then she came back on.

"Are Robin and Leah… are they alright?"

She was being watched. Her phone call listened to. _Oh God…darling, give me some sort of clue…please._

Dimitri watched as Dan O'Toole put on a headset, motioning for him to continue talking, giving him a thumbs up signal at the same time.

"They're…they're fine, Anna, but what about you?"

He could tell she was on the verge of tears. "…I love you…" Her voice was cutting out amidst the static.

"Anna...?_"_

"Will you tell them that? Tell them "I love you" for me, please?"

"Anna, where are you!?" he repeated. _Just one clue Oh, God, let her give me one little clue…_

"Please tell them I'm fine and that I love them, please Dimitri…"

There was a click on the other end and then nothing. Silence.

"Anna?" Dimitri panicked. The call couldn't have ended already. For a moment it felt like she was standing next to him and now he'd just lost her all over again.

"_Anna!"_

O'Toole lowered his headset. "Dimitri, the call's been disconnected."

"It was Alex…" Dimitri sat down in shock. "Alex called."

"I know," O'Toole replied. "I heard the last part of your conversation."

"Are you able to trace the call?" Dimitri demanded, leaning forward as he emerged from his shock.

Dan O'Toole was calm, his concentration focused on the screen in front of him. "We've already had the tracer on your phone, as long as it's an unblocked signal."

"What do you mean?"

"Faison most likely has scrambling equipment in place to make the call untraceable," Sandrine explained.

"But…"

Dan gave him a reassuring glance. "But we also have top of the line equipment on hand. If he does, we might be able to work around it. It just takes a little longer."

Dimitri ran a trembling hand over his mouth. "I don't understand, why wouldn't she tell us something? _Anything_?"

"Damn it," O'Toole muttered, ignoring the question. "Just what I suspected, the number's blocked. Untraceable."

"You said it would take longer then…"

"It will and we might end up with several options of originating telecommunications towers," O'Toole told him, before turning around with a sigh. "But this is incredible…it gives us _something_."

"Why wouldn't she give us a clue?"

"Faison was obviously there with her. She's letting us know she's still playing her part." Dan eyed him. "You know her better than any of us. Tell me what you got from what she said."

"She was upset…I could hear it in her voice."

"She said she was fine..."

"She's not fine!" Dimitri cut him off.

Dan took his eyes off the computer screen. "Look...she's still fooling him. That's the best news we could hope for, Dimitri. If Faison still thinks she's Anna, he won't hurt her. Try to take that some comfort in that."

"You don't understand," Dimitri glowered. "You have no idea how hard this is for her! None of you do."

"Then help us understand..." Dan said softly.

Dimitri's fingers tingled from the lack of air he'd been able to get in his lungs since her call. He was hyperventilating. Alex had called him and what did he say? _Nothing._ He couldn't think of a single damn thing to say that might have offered her some comfort without giving her away.

'I couldn't even tell her that I love her,' he thought guiltily. Yet she'd found a way to tell him.

Her words echoed in his mind. _" 'I love you'…tell them 'I love you' for me…"_

The words were meant for him.

"Is there something about Alex you're not telling us?" Dan asked him, bringing him out of his fog.

Dimitri shook his head. "No."

How could he tell them about the nightmares? About the terror that gripped Alex each time she fell back into the past. Into a world where she no longer knew who she was. Where her mother pulled her strings like a marionette.

How could he explain that kind of terror? How could he explain such a morbid past?

He still remembered the day she first admitted it all to him.

It was early morning, after they'd made love in her London flat. She told him that she had spent years locked away, in a psychiatric hospital, not knowing why she was there. Not sure whether she'd ever leave.

"_I've never told anyone," she told him quietly, propped up on one elbow on the bed. Her long chestnut hair fell loosely over the green silk nightgown she wore. _

_He hadn't understood. "Why?" _

"_I've never cared whether anyone knew about my past, because I knew they weren't going to be a part of my future. I don't feel that way with you. You're different, Dimitri. But if we're going to have a future, you need to know who I am. All of me."_

"_You're not just telling me because I might die soon?" _

_Her eyes had quickly darkened in anger. "Don't joke about that! I won't let you die of this illness, I promised you that."_

_He had propped himself up next to her, pushing the hair from her face, his expression serious too. "You've made me want to live again, Alex. Not because you're the one doctor in the world willing to take a chance on me, but because I love you. No matter what you were, or did, in the past matters next to that."_

_"It does matter because yesterday you asked me to marry you. Today I want you to know I might not be the woman you thought I was. I want you to know why I didn't answer you."_

"_We all have our demons," he said softly. "I have an illness that could kill me, now that I want to live more than ever. I know about fear, Alex." _

_Fear was finding the one person who completed you at the same you had a death sentence hanging over your head. _

"_I am afraid," she'd admitted in a whisper. "I'm afraid that it could happen again." _

"_If it does, we'll face it together," he had pulled her towards her, kissing her forehead, wondering how it was possible to know someone so intimately, to love them this much, after having known them for only a few weeks. "When we get the test results you're waiting for, you just have to answer yes to the question I asked." _

"You realize if you're holding something back, it could be detrimental to Alex," Dan pointed out, pulling him from the memory.

"She gets nightmares," Dimitri confessed. It was only the tip of the iceberg, but he refused to violate her trust by saying anything more. "I'm worried that they'll give her away."

Dan got up to put a hand on his shoulder. "She's doing fabulously. She's still fooling him. The phone call proved that."

"Even if Faison was there with her, why didn't she try to give us a clue, he couldn't have controlled what she was saying, could he?"

"Maybe she was trying to gain his trust," Dan offered. "If she succeeds it means we'll hear from her again."

A shiver went down Dimitri's spine, at the thought of what, 'gaining his trust' could entail.

"She's clever," Dan reminded him. "Convincing him to let her call you, as Anna. That's a pretty damn clever move."

_Clever_. Dimitri felt a bitter taste in his mouth at the odd compliment. Alex Marick was one of the most brilliant medical researchers on the planet. Saying she was clever was like saying Monet could paint some pretty pictures.

"We need to get her out of there," was all he said.

"We will find her," Sandrine Mutanga assured him.

Dan O'Toole turned his attention back to the computer screen. "We will, but first we need to find out where this call came…"

His words were cut off as the door of the suite flew open.

Sean Donely pushed a man, whom Dimitri didn't recognize, through the entrance. Anna Devane followed directly behind them.

O'Toole and Sandrine gave them a puzzled look. "What's going on?"

"I need your help," Sean told O'Toole, as he pushed the tall, thin man into a chair. The man fought back, forcing Anna to help pin him down. "We have someone we need to keep tied down for a while."

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow, Russia_

-

Faison watched her as she wiped away a tear, hating that the gesture elicited an unfamiliar feeling of guilt.

"Why are you crying, Anna?" he asked gently.

"I _miss_ them!" she shot back. Angry. Defensive.

It seemed odd that hearing Dimitri Marick's voice would affect her so profoundly.

'She's hurt,' he told himself. 'She's not herself.'

"You can bring them here whenever you want, my love. You don't _have_ to be without your daughters," he reminded her. "Leah _should_ be with her mother. We have countless rooms at Alexei Estate. Leah could have a bedroom, a nursery and a playroom when she gets older…whatever you need, Anna, you just have to tell me. Baby clothes, furniture, toys, no matter what you need. You name it and I can bring it here."

He watched her wipe away the last of her tears. "No," she started, and then, as if struck by the finality of the word and reconsidering, she added, "Not yet."

He smiled. If she allowed him to bring Leah here, it would be an ultimate admission of trust. Of love. 'And it _will_ happen,' he thought with pleasure. 'Not tonight, maybe not even next month, but Anna will want to raise her daughter here.' Who wouldn't? It was beautiful at Alexei Estate. A luxurious piece of history, surrounded by the unspoilt Russian countryside.

'I could teach Leah to ride,' Faison thought with another smile, envisioning the little girl calling him Dad. He never thought he wanted a family, but now, the notion of forging one with the only woman he ever loved, filled him with unexpected warmth. 'Maybe, if we hurry, we can give Leah a brother, or another sister…'

"Thank you," he heard her say, interrupting his thoughts. "For letting me make the phone call."

The words took him by surprise. It wasn't Anna's nature to show gratitude.

Faison knelt down next to the chair she sat in. "You're welcome."

Her eyes were red from crying, emphasizing the pallor of her skin. She'd walked further today than she had since the accident, and the effort had to have exhausted her. Although her injury was healing, she still looked ill.

The old English doctor was right when he said the healing process would take long enough to test Anna's impatient nature. For the time being, Faison was grateful that she was well enough to move around the house.

Faison allowed his hand to run over hers. "You should go back to bed, and get some rest. You've been up since morning."

Anna shook her head. "No…I hate lying there all day. It feels like I'm in a hospital."

Faison was surprised that she didn't push his hand away. He squeezed it. "Then come to the study with me."

He observed her fumbling with the cane she asked for, to replace the crutches she'd used earlier, then moved his arms underneath hers.

"I'll carry you," he said.

"No," she protested. "I can walk."

"Not anymore today," he ordered. "You've already done more than Doctor Thorpe says you should."

He felt her tense in his arms, just like she did the first time he'd scooped her into them, when she had come to see him while he was practicing karate in his gym.

"Relax," he mumbled. "I won't hurt you." He hated that he still needed to reassure her of that fact. Hated that she still didn't realize that he would die before harming her.

But he liked having her in his arms, even if the physical closeness only made him yearn for more than she was willing to concede at this point. The ease with which Faison could carry her was a stark reminder of the weight she had lost in the days after the accident. He would have to tell Olga to continue making her the heartiest Russian fare.

Faison saw her wince when he set her down on the plush, green sofa.

"You're in pain," he told her.

"No," she shook her head. "I'm fine."

"I wish you wouldn't lie to me, Anna. Or at least that you would see that it's pointless," he chided her. "Viktor tells me you're not taking the pain medication anymore."

"Too strong," she replied.

"Not for your injuries," Faison corrected her. He knelt down next to her. Anna could be heartbreakingly stubborn and he wondered whether that would one day drive him mad. Or whether it was something that made him love her even more. "If you're in pain, you're going to slow down the healing process."

"I thought it was _part _of the healing process," she mumbled.

"You're not a doctor," he chided her. "Stop thinking you know what's best and let us help you recover."

She sank tiredly into the deep, plush sofa, not bothering to argue, as she wrapped her arms around herself.

'You _must_ be exhausted, if you're too tired to argue with me,' he thought. A chequered blanket was folded on the sofa's armrest and Faison opened it, covering her with it. "You're cold," he said with a frown. Doctor Thorpe kept insisting she was nearly free from the risk of infection at this point yet Faison couldn't help but worry. "I'll make you some tea. Unless you would like something else."

"Tea is fine."

Faison eyed her as he left the room, seeing her close her eyes as soon as stepped away.

He left the study and went to her room to retrieve the pain medication the English doctor had given her, taking two pills in his hand before heading back downstairs to the study where he crushed them and poured them into the cup of hot water, letting them dissolve next to the seeping bag of Earl Grey.

"You do a terrible job taking care of yourself, Anna," he mouthed to himself. "You're lucky that I find ways around your stubbornness."

She was paler still than when he had left her. "Here," he said, handing her a porcelain cup. Her hand was cold to touch, and he could have sworn it shook when she took the cup from his hand. The phone call had affected her somehow, more deeply than she let on.

He watched her drink in silence, finishing half the cup before handing it back to him.

"Rest for a while," he told her, moving the blanket back over her.

"You drugged the tea," she said softly, sinking back into the sofa.

Faison blushed. "I didn't…"

"If you don't want me to lie to you, at least afford me the same courtesy," she countered.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. He was. Sorry. Sorry for underestimating her. Again. She needed to trust him in order to love him, and while Faison might not have understood that need; he did know that this was one instance where he had to play by her rules to win the game.

She smiled, as though mildly amused. "It's alright. You didn't get your way so you found a way around it. I might have done the same thing."

"I am sorry," he repeated, kissing her forehead this time. "I can't bear to you see in pain, but I shouldn't have deceived you."

She said nothing, closing her eyes. Faison had brought out a small bowl of shortbread biscuits. He knew she liked them and offered her one.

She shook her head. "No. Not hungry."

"You have to eat," he tried.

"Too tired."

Faison frowned. All of her reactions this afternoon were unusual. Her gratitude for the phone call. Her quick forgiveness for having drugged her tea; topped off by an admission that she might have done the same. None of it made sense and it unnerved him.

'Why would it bother you?' he asked himself. She had reacted _exactly_ the way he would have wanted her to, right down to her acknowledgment that they were alike in their thinking.

_Except Anna rarely reacts the way I want her to, so when she does it makes me wonder._

She surprised him even more when she reached to take another sip of the tea.

'Maybe she's in more pain than she's admitting,' he thought with a frown. It would explain her reluctance to argue with him. For what it was worth, she didn't look well, and he made a mental reminder to have the old doctor look at her again later today.

'Or maybe,' he thought. 'Maybe it's time I got used to things going my way. Maybe she's finally realizing what I knew all along. That fighting the inevitable is pointless. That we were meant to be.'

He didn't allow himself to wish for more just then.

Faison silently sat by her side until she felt asleep. Even after she did, he waited several long moments, observing the steady rise and fall of her breathing, until he moved his legs, legs that had since fallen asleep and tingled with the sudden movement.

Getting up, he turned off the ceiling lamp, darkening the room for her, and took a final glance at her before leaving the room.

His first instinct was to look the door behind him, but he stopped himself.

'Anna's right. How can she trust me unless I trust her?'

He left the door unlocked.

He would call his security team to keep an extra eye on the cameras in the hallway, but he wouldn't keep her locked inside.

'No more,' he chided himself. 'She's the woman I love, not my prisoner.'

Part of him wanted to go back inside, and stay next to her until she woke up again. Looking at her was something never tired of.

"Later," he mouthed aloud. "First there's business I need to take care of."

Business in the form of Robert Scorpio. The only remaining thorn in his side.

_Cellar, Alexei Estate_

_-_

Cesar Faison straightened his shirt and spoke to the guards in Russian. The old, stone hallway was cool, damp and poorly lit.

As he had requested, Scorpio had been contained inside the basement cell. It was almost forty-eight hours since Faison had last gone to see him.

He knew that Robert didn't have any food or drink since then.

Starving him wasn't Faison's preferred method of making him talk. Prisoners deprived of food often made for rambling, incoherent subjects. He wanted clarity from Scorpio, not hallucinatory ramblings from an electrolyte-deprived brain.

Nonetheless, a lack of food and water would at least serve the purpose of weakening Scorpio's resolve.

He wrinkled his nose at the smell that came from the cell, when he stepped inside.

"There's a sink and a bar of soap in here, why don't you use it?" Faison said with disdain.

Robert Scorpio's body shook violently in the dampness of the room. Because his hands and ankles were handcuffed he couldn't cover himself with the two, bloodstained blankets.

Faison slapped his face hard, to stop him from shaking.

"Get a grip," he ordered.

"Cold…" Robert's teeth chattered, the sound echoing along the stone walls of the cell. The bloodstain along his side had changed colour. It was a deep purple now, with specks of beige oozing out underneath the fabric. It was obviously infected and that fact that irritated Faison. It meant he couldn't push him as far or as hard as he wanted to. It also meant that he would have to send for Dr. Thorpe to see him again. Thankfully the doctor was already on his way to Alexei Estate. The last thing Faison wanted to do was kill Robert before he told him about his source. It also meant he would need to re-hydrate him soon.

"If you co-operated with me, that could change," Faison offered non-chalantly.

He observed Robert making a visible effort to control his shaking. "Let her go, and I'll tell you everything."

"Anna doesn't want to go anywhere," he said sighing. "You on the other hand could use a break."

Robert smiled, his teeth chattering louder with the effort. "If… I tell you what you want to know, you…have no reason…to keep me alive."

Faison shook his head in disappointment. "Robert, my old friend, do you really think so poorly of me, that I wouldn't keep my promise after you told me how you found me? I kept my word to you for ten long years, didn't I? I stayed away from her for a decade. Surely you could have a little more faith than that?"

"As soon as I tell you…you'll kill me."

Faison sighed.

"Really, Scorpio, you would think that your years at the WSB would have given you a better grasp on what makes for a successful interrogation."

"Water," he croaked. "I need something to drink."

Faison nodded. "So you do. And as I'm about to prove to you, I'm a reasonable man."

He left the room and went to see the guards, returning with a small, plastic bottle of water.

He held it next to Robert's parched lips, feeling heat emanate from his skin when Faison brushed against it. Scorpio was feverish and hot.

"Not so fast," Faison scolded him. "You'll get sick."

With his hands still tied behind his back when he drank, the water dripped down Robert's chin and onto his wrinkled clothes.

"I have no intentions of killing you," Faison repeated, watching Robert thirstily down the water. "Tell me who led you here and you're a free man. Killing you means nothing to me, once I have what I want."

Robert's glazed eyes looked back at him and he chortled. "If you let me go, _I will_ kill you."

Faison seethed. He wanted to kill him right now.

Instead, he managed a strained smile. "You won't. Because I'll have my men take you far away from Alexei Estate, and by the time you realize where you are, Anna and I will be long gone. So, once again, _tell_ me who led you here…tell me and you're a free man."

Robert laughed a feverish laugh. "Do you think… I lost my mind in Africa? Do you really think I would…_believe you_?"

Faison smoothed his shirt and stood back up, annoyed. He dumped the rest of the water on the cold, stone floor.

"I meant what I said, and sooner or later you will realize that your only way out of here is to tell me the truth."

Robert said nothing, his head lolling tiredly to one side.

"I see," Faison shrugged. "You choose later, rather than sooner. It's not _my_ preference so I do think you should pay a price for your blatant unwillingness to do things my way."

Robert said nothing; even as Faison pushed him to the ground, face first, defenceless and immobile with both hands still tied behind his back.

Faison thought he heard him groan.

"A man's little finger," Faison pointed out, reaching for Robert's pinkie finger. "Is an anatomical weakness. But then you probably know that, don't you? That for a small, weak woman to subdue a man twice her size, all she has to do is grab his little finger and twist it back as quickly and as forcefully as she can. That the pain of the twisted nerve ending will radiate right up into his neck and shoulders, rendering the man immobile."

Faison took Robert's little finger into the palm of his hand and twisted it back.

Faison smiled. "It's such a simple trick, yet so effective."

Robert's little finger was now twisted back so far it nearly touched the back of his hand on an even plane.

And when it did touch, Faison heard a crack, followed by a scream, as he broke Scorpio's little finger.

When he let go, it hung limply on Robert's hand.

"That's for making me wait for your answer," Faison said softly as he stood back up. There was a slight bounce in his step when walked towards the cell doors and banged it to catch the attention of his guards.

"I'm coming out," he informed them in Russian. He cast an annoyed, backwards glance at the door. "Undo the cuffs in a few minutes."

He frowned, then reconsidered. After all his continued resistance, Scorpio really didn't deserve the courtesy of being allowed to tend to his broken finger.

"It must be Anna," he mumbled under his breath, irritated. "She's bringing out my soft side."

_Alexei Estate, upstairs_

_-_

"_Sasha, what are you doing?" _

_Alex cringed at the disappointed tone in her mother's voice. "I'm proving to you that I can be the woman you want me to be. I can be Anna." _

_Charlotte Devane stopped short of rolling her eyes. "Pretending to be your sister won't turn you into the daughter I wish I had." _

_She was holding a gun in her hand, "Mum, I can do this!" _

_Charlotte sneered. "You can't kill a fly, Sasha. You always lacked the guts for this business, no matter how hard I tried to convince myself otherwise." She sighed a weary sigh. "And God knows I tried, Sasha. Drugs, training, psychological conditioning. None of it could give me the daughter I needed to run this business. None of it turned you into Anna." _

"_Mum!" Alex felt wet streaks running down her face, mirroring the tightness in her chest. "For once let me prove it to you!" _

_But Charlotte was already gone and Alex felt the walls of the room begin to close around her. Crushing her, choking her. _

_Her heart raced and knees were shaking. _

"_Mum?" _

_Was it really possible to need, fear, loathe, and love, someone all at once?_

"_Mum?" _

_She clenched the .40 calibre Glock automatic in her sweaty palms. She knew its magazine capacity was fifteen rounds and that it weighed almost ten ounces when filled, as it was now. _

'_How?' she wondered. 'How do I know that?' _

_A voice emerged from the darkness, startling her. _

"_Darling, what are you doing with a gun?" _

_How was it possible that Dimitri now stood precisely where her mother did mere moments ago? _

_Alex didn't question it. She was relieved to see him there. Her heart pounded so loudly she was certain he could hear it. _

"_Mum needed me to…" Alex forgot why exactly it was in her hand. "It's an assignment for…" _

"_Put it down!" He looked at her, appalled._

"_I can't…" Alex tried to explain. She needed it for what she had to do. She knew that much._

"_Alex, put it down!" _

_Next to the anger and shock she saw written in his face, there was something else. Fear _

"_Don't look at me like that," she pleaded. More than her mother's disdain, the angry disbelief in Dimitri's eyes hurt her. _

"_If you don't put the gun down I'm going to call for help," he threatened. _

_Alex couldn't remember him ever looking at her like this._

"_I'm not going to hurt you," she said softly. Why wouldn't her heart stop pounding? "I love you. You're the only man I've ever loved." _

"Y_ou're not the woman I fell in love with, Alex. Half the time I see you, you think you're someone else." This time there was something else in his dark eyes. _

_Pity. _

_The walls kept coming closer, encroaching both of them. _

_She wanted to crawl out of her skin. _

"_You think you're Anna again, don't you?" he said quietly. He was the gentlest man she had ever known. _

_They were on the ground now. Kneeling. The gun was in his hands. _

_How? She wondered. How was it that could things happen so quickly, without her knowledge? _

"_I had to pretend, for this assignment, because Mum needed…" Things were coming back to her, in parts, and she did what she could to explain. She wished he'd put his arms around her and stop the walls from threatening to fold in over them. Crushing them. _

"_Dimitri, stop them, please…I can't stand it anymore…" _

_He must not have heard her. _

"_You're not pretending anymore, Alex, are you? You really believe you're Anna?" _

"_No…" _

"_It's finally happened again," he shook his head sadly. "You're losing your mind, Alex." _

"_No!" She shirked back violently. "That's not true!" _

"_It time you went back to the institution."_

_Panic gripped her so forcefully it felt like someone knocked the wind out of her. Alex gasped for air. _

_The walls were so close now she could almost touch them._

"_It's for the best, Anna." _

"_What did you call me?" _

"_Anna," Dimitri sighed again. "You've become your sister, Alex. You know you have." _

"_No…" Alex shook her head violently. "No." _

_Alex saw that his grip on the gun had loosened and that one careless instant was all she needed to have it back in her trembling hand. _

_She pointed it at her husband. _

"_Take it back," she screeched. "Take everything you said back!" _

"_Anna, stop this…please darling don't do this…at the institution they can help you." _

"_Don't call me that!" _

_Dimitri's fear was almost as palpable as the pounding of her heart. "Darling, don't…" _

_He didn't have a chance to finish his sentence._

_Alex fired the gun. The first shot hit the centre of the body mass and it knocked Dimitri to the ground. It wasn't enough. She kept firing once he was down. _

_One round after another. _

_Bang. _

_Bang. _

_Bang. _

_Dimitri twitched and convulsed with every bullet that entered his body. Violently at first, then slower, with the clumsiness of a man no longer in control of his muscles. _

_Alex fired again, the butt of the gun hot against her palms. _

"_Anna?"_

_At that word, Alex dropped the gun onto his blood soaked body, covering her deafened ears with her hands, before dropping to her knees. _

"_Oh God…don't call me that…don't ever call me that again…" _

_She wanted to scream it aloud. "I am NOT Anna!" _

_And she did._

_Or did she? _

The only thing she was aware of was that she was on the ground, in a different room with a pair of strong hands clutching her upper arms. Her thigh throbbed and a man with grey, shoulder-length hair and a concerned, puzzled look, stared at her.

"Anna, what's wrong? What are you saying?"


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

_Alexei Estate, north of Moscow, Russia_

_-_

"I think I'm going to be sick."

Faison helped her back on the sofa. "Anna, take a deep breath…"

Alex shook her head. He didn't understand. "I'm going to be _sick!_"

The edge in her voice made Faison understand the urgency of her words, and he helped her limp to the nearest sink where her prediction was promptly fulfilled.

Afterwards, he held her as she sank down onto the cool, tile floors of the study's kitchenette.

"Better?"

He had brought her a cool, wet cloth and held it against her flushed face.

Alex nodded. Better was a relative term.

He held out his hand to her. "Let me take you to your room."

She let him help her stand up. "No, I want to stay here in the study…" She wasn't sure whether she was capable of walking upstairs to her room and she didn't want him to carry her again. Didn't want his hands all over her.

"You're shaking."

Back on the sofa, Alex didn't resist when he covered her with the chequered blanket.

Faison's forehead was lined with a worried crease, when he sat down next to her. "Have you ever had nightmares like this before?"

"Yes," Alex nodded. Should it happen again, and _that_ was a very real possibility, telling him the truth made sense.

"Anna," he started gently. "This nightmare…it made you physically ill."

"Sometimes they make me sick," she admitted. That too was the truth. It didn't happen often, but at times when the nightmares felt particularly real or threatening, they made her ill enough to throw up. At Vadsel, Dimitri would bring her chamomile tea and lie awake with her, making small talk until the images went away.

"How long have you had them, Anna?" The genuine concern on his face almost made her want to laugh at the irony of it all.

"Since the explosion," she replied, wishing that his questions would stop. As they always did, the nightmares exhausted her.

She knew her answer made sense. Given her sister's cranial injuries from the tanker explosion, neurological disturbances, in the form of nightmares _would_ be a common after-effect.

Having to second-guess every word that came from her mouth was making her head spin and Alex shivered in spite of the blanket that covered her.

"You're freezing," Faison took off his sweater and made her put it on, taking extra care not to strain her wrist. "Have you seen someone about them? About the nightmares."

The question reminded her of Dimitri and of the many times he'd tried to coax her into seeing a psychiatrist.

_I always I refused, because seeing a shrink would only verify what I feared. That I was really losing my mind again. But I also refused because I knew that if I had you by my side, I could handle the nightmares._

"You said some things," Faison prompted her. "You were calling out Dimitri's name. You kept saying that you're not Anna."

Alex closed her eyes shut. _Oh God…what else?_

"Anna, what did you dream?"

"I don't know," she lied, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "I never remember them."

"Did you dream about Dimitri because you spoke to him earlier."

"I don't know," she repeated. 'Anna wouldn't fall apart,' she told herself, noticing that she was still shaking. 'Anna would stay strong.'

Sensing that he wasn't going to get any further, Faison seemed at a loss of what to do next.

"I'm going to get Viktor," he declared, as if doing something, was better than nothing at all. As if the young, Russian nurse could somehow make her feel better.

Not that she could blame Faison for trying.

If she looked anything like she felt, she was probably scaring him. She couldn't stop shaking and she'd just thrown up. She couldn't blame Faison for thinking she needed medical attention.

'How much longer?' she thought darkly. 'How much longer can I do this?'

"Anna, did you hear me?"

His voice startled her.

"No…"

"Are you alright if I leave you alone for a moment?"

Alex noticed that she was crying now. She wished the ground would open up and swallow them both whole. _Anything to not be here anymore._ _Anything_.'

"Anna?"

God, how she wished he would stop calling her that.

"No…don't go," she managed. "Stay with me." It was a dumb thing to say. A weak plea that her sister would never utter. Yet the thought of being alone while the nightmare still haunted her was unthinkable.

_Was it possible? Was she really capable of killing the only man she ever truly loved? _

"Of course…I'll stay," Faison looked at her with puzzled eyes, bending down to kiss her forehead. "I won't leave you. I'll never leave you, Anna."

Alex shut her eyes tighter wondering if she could somehow trick her mind into believing that it wasn't Faison. That it was Dimitri here with her now. Dimitri whose gentle hands were resting on hers.

Alex knew that Anna wouldn't have given in to her fears, the way she did now, yet something good had come of it all: Faison was under the impression that she needed him.

_Wanted_ him.

It was a tiny step forward on the path to gain his trust.

_Anna's Apartment, Paris, France_

_-_

"Vroom!"

David Hayward's eyes widened as he made another jet-plane-coming-in for-a-landing noise.

Leah's black pupils followed the spoon hypnotically.

"Uh oh… the captain just got orders to circle the airport one more time," David told her, raising the spoon back into the air, circling it around her head.

As soon as the make believe jet went out of her sight, Leah squealed and banged both her hands on the plastic tray of the highchair she sat in, making David laugh. "Okay, _now_ it's ready to come in for a landing…" He landed the spoon smoothly into her mouth, bending towards her to wipe the final bits of puree off her lips.

"That's my girl."

Leah rewarded him with another smile, and David wondered how it was possible that he had somehow fathered the most adorable and content little girl in the world.

Anna had joked with him that Leah was a happy baby because it was her way of trying to get back into her mother's good graces, after putting her through a particularly difficult pregnancy.

"_I don't believe she'd make you miserable, not Leah, not my little angel…" David had chuckled._

"_You weren't the one who was puking every day for nine months."_

"Have I told you yet today, that you have your mother's smile, princess?" He smirked. "With a little luck you'll have her sense of humour too."

While holding her tightly in one arm, his other hand reached out to clear the food dishes on the high chair, carrying all of them to the kitchen where he dumped the plastic bowl and spoon into the sink.

David kissed Leah on her nose, knowing it would elicit another smile.

Her small, pink hand was about to grab a piece of his hair but he deftly moved his head away, hoisting her further up.

"I'm getting good at predicting your little ploys, aren't I?"

Walking in to the living room, David caught a glance of both of them in the full-length mirror that stood in the hallway, liking the reflection that stared back. He was tanned from all the walks through Paris with his daughter and having her in his arms felt like the most natural thing in the world. Being away from her, even for a day, seemed unimaginable now.

The phone rang, forcing him to turn away from the mirror.

"I hope that's your Mom, princess," he mumbled. "So I can tell her I was about to call the police and file a missing person report. Oh, wait, she _is_ supposed to be missing..."

Feeding Leah her dinner had momentarily distracted him from his worry for Anna. She hadn't been home in over two days. Hadn't so much as called to let him know why. His constant calls were met by a voice message that he could now recite by heart, even though he didn't speak a word of French. Her cell was either turned off or she was purposely not answering it.

"Hi Maggie," he answered, trying to hide his disappointment, when he heard his cousin's voice on the other end. "How are you, sweetheart?"

He cringed when, in one breathless, uninterrupted flood of words, she told him she almost lost her residence when the dean had discovered a caged guinea pig inside her room.

"You can't put Ruben in a shelter, sweetheart!" David couldn't imagine Melissa's pet in an animal shelter. In fact, he couldn't wait to show Leah the guinea pig. Imagining Leah's reaction when she first petted him, made him smile. "I'll talk to the dean again, sweetheart. I'll make a donation to the university, whatever it takes," he tried to calm her. And just as he'd calmed his distraught cousin, he felt Leah's fingers grabbing a clump of his hair, pulling it firmly.

If he wasn't holding the receiver with his free hand, he would have been able to grab her little fist. Instead, he listened to her giggle at having outwitted him.

"Very clever and sneaky." David made a face at her. "Waiting until I was distracted to strike. That's a definite Anna tactic."

"Listen, Maggie," he went on. "I'm trying to keep the phone lines open in case, Anna calls. No…there's no call waiting on the phone. And no, everything's okay…really, Anna's fine," he lied. "I love you too, and thanks again. I'll make this up to you when I come back to Pine Valley."

David hung up the phone, his eyes resting on the red message button, hoping it would light up while he unfastened Leah's fingers from his hair.

"Pine Valley," he mumbled. "When _are_ we going back to Pine Valley, princess?"

As much as he was enjoying life in Paris with Leah, David knew it wouldn't last forever. Right now he was living in the tranquil centre of a hurricane. What would happen when it all ended?

The Chief of Staff at Seaview was already inundating him with phone calls that questioned his unexpected leave of absence. He'd stopped just short of threatening his position as head of Cardiology. David hoped it was a bluff, because, in truth, he missed practising medicine, realizing only when he was away from it, how much it was his lifeblood.

"You would love it at the cabin in Pine Valley," he told Leah with a smile. "It's so beautiful there. You can see the lights of the entire city at your feet and a million stars shining in the sky above you."

David wanted to bring his wife and daughter back home.

There was a time in his life when he was used to getting what he wanted. Now getting the things he wanted involved at lot more effort. It wasn't always an easy adjustment.

He looked at Leah, his lips curving into a reluctant smile. "But, in exchange, the rewards are so much greater now, aren't they?"

"We could build an extension to the cabin, what do you say, princess? A second wing, so that there's enough room for your sister. Robin could study at PVU or at Chicago, and spend weekends at home with us…" He had no doubts that the Pine Valley Police would welcome Anna back with open arms, and with a little cajoling he might even convince her to take on a risk-free administrative position…

Leah scrunched her lips at him when he set her down on the play mat.

"I know," he admitted aloud. "I know it's insane to make plans for the future when I don't even know whether your Mom is alright at this very moment." 'Or Alex,' he thought with a hint of guilt. 'Alex risked her life for you, and, for as long as I've known her, I don't think I ever had a single, civil conversation with her. How the hell am I ever going to thank her for this?' He wondered if he could take some consolation knowing that Anna would spend the rest of her life trying to get her sister away from Faison's clutches.

'Or die trying,' he thought morbidly.

The sound of keys turning in the door shook him from his thoughts.

"Anna!" he announced in shock when he saw her enter the apartment. "Where the hell have you been?"

"What happened to 'welcome home, honey'?" she replied, setting down her keys on the telephone stand.

"You've been out since dawn yesterday! I must have called your cell at least a dozen times!"

Anna ignored his accusation and moved towards Leah on the play mat, kneeling down next to the baby; her tired face lighting up into a smile. "Hey sweetie…" Anna ran a hand along her daughter's cheek and slowly moved to pick her up. "I've missed you."

Leah's face lit up into a smile that was identical to her mother's, and David wished he had a camera to capture the image forever, partly annoyed that it was next to impossible to stay angry with Anna lately.

He watched them both, waiting until Anna set her back down, and fell into the sofa, yawning.

"Baby, I was worried sick about you…" he started, gentler this time.

"I know, I should have called," she admitted, "I'm sorry, but I couldn't get away. The last twenty-four hours have been crazy."

He sat down next to her, keeping an eye on Leah who was ignoring both of them, occupied with a green, plastic doll that looked like a banana with arms.

"Did something happen? Did you find out anything?"

Anna yawned again and David wondered whether she had slept at all in the last forty-eight hours.

"What didn't happen is the question."

"Anna?"

"We got a lead," she began. "We _finally_ got a lead and after Sandrine and O'Toole did some digging, it looks like we tracked Faison's path the night he kidnapped Alex. He was using an alias and travelled out of a local airfield, north of the city, by private jet to Frankfurt."

"Frankfurt?"

"Yeah," she explained. "We tracked him by following the credit card trail of one his supposed passengers on the flight manifest, only to discover that a German financier by the name of Petra Schmidt, was never on the flight."

"Faison used the name as a cover?"

Anna nodded. "Yes. For Alex."

"So you're saying you've tracked her to Germany?"

This time she shook her head. "No. We found out that Faison switched aliases that same night. He left Frankfurt-Main Airport and continued on to Moscow on a different plane."

David raised his eyebrows, "So she's in Russia?"

"We think so, yes. Or at least she was."

"That's good news right?"

Anna bit her lip, her eyes staring into space. "That's not all…"

"What else?" he prodded.

"When Sean and I were about to have lunch yesterday, I saw this man that I recognized."

"A man?" David didn't understand.

"When I was pregnant, Faison often…" Anna paused. "He often followed me, and I recognized this man."

David felt a pang of guilt. If only he had _been_ there during the pregnancy.

"I recognized this guy as someone who works for Faison, or _worked_, past tense…I don't know. Anyway, we took him in."

"You took him to the police?"

"No," Anna hesitated. "We took him to the Auberge."

"You arrested this guy off the street and are holding him at your makeshift command centre?" David looked at her incredulously.

"Yeah…something like that."

"Is that legal?"

Anna managed a smirk. "Look who's asking." Her smile faded when she answered in earnest. "Theoretically no. But there _are_ legalities that can be worked around. If he's as close to Faison as I suspect he is, taking him to the police without any charges that can stick, is the same as letting him go. He'd be out after twenty-four hours and gone from the face of the earth."

"So has he told you anything?"

"No," she answered with frustration. "Not a word. Nothing. Not so much as a grunt. He didn't even have a credit card on him that we could trace."

"So you're going to hold this guy prisoner until he hopefully tells you something that will lead to Alex? And if he doesn't?"

Anna undid the messy ponytail she wore and let her long hair fall over her shoulders, ignoring his stare. "Oh, trust me. He _will_ talk."

"Anna, that's crazy!"

"There's more," she went on. "Alex called."

"_What?"_ David looked at her in shock. "You heard from Alex?"

"She called Dimitri's cell, just before we got to the Auberge with this guy, Jan."

"And?"

"And from what I heard after listening to what O'Toole recorded, she basically had Faison breathing down her neck during the entire one minute conversation."

"Is she alright?"

Anna sighed, leaning back in the sofa, an angle that highlighted the circles under her eyes. "For what it's worth, she _said_ she was alright. More importantly, she's still convincing him that she's me."

"Did she tell you anything?"

"Like where we can find her?" Anna shook her head. "No. No clues whatsoever. I think my sister's trying to convince Faison that he can trust her. It's the only way I can explain why she didn't try to give us something. She did manage to find a way of telling Dimitri she loved him. It was strange, David…it was as though that was the only thing that mattered to her. Making sure Dimitri knew that."

"How'd he take it?" David asked her.

"He was a mess," Anna told him. "As much as Dimitri Marick is capable of being a mess, that is. I mean, on the surface he was his usual collected self, no more visibly upset than he'd be after seeing one of his horses lose a race, but once you've been around him for a while you pick up the subtle signs that he's close to losing it and that phone call definitely pushed him closer to the edge."

"As long as he doesn't take it out on you..." David frowned.

"He's terrified for Alex, and O'Toole thinks there are some things about my sister, he's not telling us."

"Like what?"

Anna shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know…I didn't have the energy this morning to try and get it out of him. Between that and trying to trace the call, just convincing Dimitri to go back to his hotel to get some sleep took more effort than it was worth."

David looked at her. "You should take your own advice. You look like hell."

"I bet," she yawned again. "I _should_ get some sleep," she admitted, pushing herself off the sofa with considerable effort. "And take a shower."

He stood up next to her, glancing down at Leah. "I could put her in the playpen and join you."

Anna smirked. "To make sure I don't fall asleep while I wash my hair?"

David grinned. "You'd be the first person to fall asleep while taking a shower with me."

"How many women _have_ you showered with?"

David laughed. "Only one who matters." He moved to put his arms around her, pulling her towards him. "I'm glad you're home safe, baby."

She started to return his embrace, moving her arms around his neck, but then pulled back with a groan when he squeezed her tighter, hugging her arms around her waist.

"Anna? What's wrong?" he asked, puzzled.

"Nothing," she said, swallowing. "Just tired…"

"No... you're hurt," he realized.

"No," she shook her head, forcing a smile. "I'm fine."

David grabbed her wrist, before she had a chance to head off to the bathroom. "Anna, stop it!"

The gesture made her wince and for the first time David noticed the dark stains on her long-sleeved black blouse. Using his free hand, he rolled the sleeve back towards her elbow and saw a jagged cut stained with dried blood.

He looked at her in disbelief. "What the hell happened to you?"

She narrowed her brows annoyed. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing," he shot back. "You cut yourself and, what, you didn't have five minutes to clean that cut?" His concern blended with anger, "For God's sake, don't you know better than that?"

"David, stop it…"

"Let me guess," he added, sarcastically. "Too busy interrogating your illegally held suspect?"

"I don't need a lecture," she started, loosening herself from his grip.

"Sit down, Anna," he ordered. "And take off your blouse."

"For what?"

David bit his tongue, fighting the urge to raise his voice, knowing that it was the least likely means of getting her co-operate. "You're hurt," he managed instead. "Let me take a look at you."

Her stone-faced expression didn't budge.

"Please."

He watched as she rolled her eyes.

"Look, I said, I'm fine…I'm tired and I want to take a shower and get some sleep, not have you fuss over nothing."

David let her protest while he unbuttoned her blouse. He grimaced when he saw the bruises covering her waist.

"Lie back on the sofa for me," he ordered, gently pressing on her abdomen. "Tell me if it hurts anywhere."

He saw her wince at his touch.

"If you stop prodding it, it'll be fine."

"What on earth happened?" he asked for a second time, trying to distract her.

"The man I saw…the one I believe works for Faison…he struggled when we tried to apprehend him and he got in a couple of kicks," she explained.

"You got into a fight with one of Faison's henchmen?"

Anna frowned. "No. That's not what I said."

"Yes, it is. It's exactly what you said," he countered. His tolerance for lies was now as low as hers. Seeing her in front of him, exhausted and hurt; bothered him, in ways he couldn't explain. It was an uncomfortable feeling that encompassed anger, frustration, fear and love all at once. "I can't believe you sometimes…" he started, but then stopped himself. "Breathe in deeply for me."

Anna groaned when he felt for tenderness over her kidneys. "Can't… believe what?"

"Can't believe that you get into fistfights with criminals! Criminals that could be armed and dangerous, " he said, grateful that his cursory examination seemed to indicate no internal damage. "Do you ever consider that you could get killed? Do you ever think that you have two daughters that need their mother? Do you, Anna?"

"I don't need this…not now, and not from you," she brushed off his hands, and got back up. "I'm sorry if you can't handle what I do for a living. But don't you dare try and make me feel guilty for trying to get back my sister!"

"Leah needs her mother," he threw in, undeterred by her anger. How was it possible that Anna didn't understand that he couldn't bear to lose her a second time?

In response to their raised voices, Leah started crying.

Anna gave him an angry glare, stooping down to pick her up.

David tried to stop her. "No…don't do that, it's okay…I'll get her."

But Anna already held their crying daughter in her arms. "I can still take care of my daughter. I did it for seven months before you showed up."

"Anna…you know that's not what I meant." With every word, David felt the air thicken with tension. He forced his voice to soften. "You need some sleep. Let me look after her."

In spite of David's outstretched arms, Anna cradled the baby in her arms until she stopped crying. Only when Leah calmed down did she hand her over to him without a word.

"Anna…" David started. The silence bothered him more than her anger.

"Spare me the lecture," she said, angrily. "Or the guilt trip."

David bit his tongue, deciding to kiss Leah's wet cheeks instead. He frowned when he watched Anna head for the bathroom door, slamming it shut behind her.

In the meantime, Leah grabbed hold of another chunk of his hair.

"Why does everything between me and your Mom have to be a struggle?" he sighed, undoing her tightly clenched fist to free his hair. "Why can't it ever be simple?"

David set Leah back down on the play mat, hoping Anna might have an epiphany during her shower, that might let her see things through his eyes.

When she was done, he saw her head for the bedroom, without a word.

"Anna," he called out after her, settling Leah into her playpen.

When David opened the door of the bedroom, he saw Anna, already asleep on the bed, wearing the same white bathrobe she wore the night they last made love.

David heaved a sigh when he saw she still hadn't taken care of the cut on her wrist.

He quietly picked a white First Aid box from a shelf and sat down on the rim of the bed.

He considered waking her, but then decided it wasn't necessary. David clipped the silver watch off her wrist and held her hand in one of his, dabbing on a generous layer of antibiotic ointment with the other, before neatly wrapping it up.

Although Anna stirred in her sleep, she didn't wake up.

He brushed a strand of wet hair from her forehead, smoothly running his finger along her hairline before getting up to close the curtain, darkening the room against the bright sunshine that poured through the open window.

Then he turned on the ceiling fan. Not high enough for it to make a noise that might wake her, but enough to start a flow of air in the hot room.

David noticed that she'd set the alarm clock on the bedside table for five in the morning. He shook his head in disbelief and flicked a button to turn it off.

When he was satisfied that she was comfortable, he cast a final glance in Anna's direction.

Then he quietly closed the bedroom door behind him.

_Alexei Estate, Moscow, Russia_

_-_

"Here you go, sir," Olga handed him a steaming hot cup of coffee.

"Thank you," Faison mumbled without looking at her. He appreciated the smell of Grand Marnier that rose alongside the steam from the thick, black mug. He took a sip of it, nearly burning his tongue, before taking a seat in the same chair that Anna sat in earlier in to call Dimitri Marick.

He still hadn't managed to get a hold of Jan and it irritated him.

'I have some of the world's most advanced telecommunications equipment in this room and yet I can't reach my own assistant on his cell phone,' he thought with disgust.

It was the second time in as many weeks that Jan had been unreachable and, as was the case with any anomaly, it made Faison nervous.

Jan was fastidious and meticulous. A perfectionist. Faison couldn't imagine his Swedish right-hand man not having fixed or discarded his cell phone after it malfunctioned once. Nor could he understand that Jan wouldn't have tried to make contact via other means.

Faison had gone so far as to call the hotel where Jan was staying, and demand that the concierge hand deliver a message to his assistant's suite, only to be told Jan wasn't in the room, even though it was early morning.

'Where the hell are you, Jan?' Faison wondered angrily. He needed to have a word with him to make sure that Holstrom wouldn't make this recent carelessness a new habit.

There was a knock on the door and Faison saw Olga enter with a beautifully garnished plate of fruit and cheese.

"For you," Olga told him in Russian.

Faison smiled. It wasn't something he'd asked for but Olga had an uncanny way of anticipating his needs. "Thank you."

"It is my pleasure," she said, meaning it.

Faison waited until she left, closing the automatic door behind her, before turning on the mini-disc that had Anna's conversation with Dimitri on it.

Faison was eager to listen to it again. To dissect it for the tiniest of clues that Anna might have tried to pass along without his knowledge.

He put a headphone over his ears and pressed, 'Play.'.

Oddly enough when he began to listen to it, it wasn't Anna's voice that puzzled him so much as Dimitri's.

'There's something there that I can't put my finger on…'

Dimitri had answered the phone by calling her Alex, which, of course, made perfect sense. After all, Dimitri Marick would expect his wife to call him on his cell-phone not his missing sister-in-law.

It wasn't the fact that Dimitri called her Alex that bothered him but the note of desperation in his voice when he did. His anxiousness to speak to his wife was…odd.

"Anna…yes… Anna, " Dimitri's voice stammered on the disc. "Are you alright?"

'Stop making something out of nothing,' Faison chided himself, when he reset the disc a third time. 'Maybe they had a fight and he didn't expect her to call him. Maybe he was unusually relieved to hear her voice…' Or maybe Anna herself was closer to Dimitri Marick than Faison had assumed? He didn't think Anna was particularly close to either her twin sister or Dimitri Marick. After all, Anna had spent most of her life not knowing that Alexandra's existed. They lived in different countries and led vastly different lives.

Faison had never bothered to learn much about Alexandra Marick.

He knew she was a pioneer in stem cell research, a medical researcher as well as a working physician who'd managed her own practice treating terminally ill patients out of London. Her resume only hinted at her genius and normally that alone would have made her fascinating to him. He appreciated a woman whose intellect could hold her own against his.

'Yet she gave it all up to live the life of a spoiled socialite, in an isolated Hungarian estate, with her millionaire husband, Dimitri Marick.' Faison cringed. "What a waste," he mumbled with disgust. "And a mind is a terrible thing to waste."

Anna would never play the demure wife next to the man she loved. Nor would she ever give up her career for him.

'I would hate it if she wasted her talents, like her sister.'

Faison always considered Anna his equal and he would never want her to stand on the sidelines. Instead, he yearned for her to run his empire alongside him.

The thought that his dream was closer to reality than it had ever been before lifted his face into a smile.

'Then why do I have this nagging feeling that something is wrong?' he asked himself.

The overwhelming concern in Dimitri Marick's voice.

Anna's willingness to overlook his drugging her tea.

The strange, violent nightmare in which Anna insisted she wasn't herself.

Anna asking him to stay by her side until she fell asleep.

'There are perfectly good explanations for each of those anomalies,' Faison reminded himself.

_And yet._

Jan would find a way to rationalize things. To remind him that most fears were the product of an overactive mind.

Faison sunk his teeth into a large, juicy grape.

Jan.

If only he could get a hold of Jan.

_Hotel Ritz, Paris, France_

_-_

Dimitri Marick walked past the opulent, white-marble check-in counter and pressed the button for the elevator.

"Monsieur Marick!"

The concierge; a small moustachioed man with beady eyes and a disproportionately large belly ran across the lobby to catch his attention.

Drops of sweat rimmed the man's nearly bald head when he handed Dimitri an envelope.

"_Il y a deux messages de votre frere. Il a telephone trois fois et, aussi, il y a un jeune homme qui_…" he started.

"_Merci beaucoup_," Dimitri cut him off.

Frustrated that Dimitri hadn't returned his calls, his brother Edmund had tried to reach him through other means. He could barely see straight anymore and the last thing he wanted was to think about the upheaval at Vadsel, where more than a dozen friends and relatives questioned his cancelling of the Spring Ball, demanding to know the real reason. Since his brother had been kind enough to fly to Hungary and handle them, Dimitri knew he owed Edmund a phone call, at the very least.

"_Monsieur Marick, le jeune homme qui est arrive cet après-midi_…" the concierge continued and Dimitri had to make a concerted effort to follow his rapid-fire French.

Dimitri was grateful the elevator doors opened in front of him.

"_Pardonnez moi, mais je suis presse_," he lied, stepping into the gold-gilded elevator.

The last thing he saw was the concierge's frazzled expression, before the doors closed shut.

As was the case each time he had a moment of silence to himself, he heard Alex's voice in his head.

This time it was the phone call that haunted him.

_"I love you…tell them I love you for me, please."_

"You didn't have to say it," he whispered aloud. "You could have used that precious time to give us something to help us find you…you didn't have to say it…I know, Alex…I know you do."

He didn't realize he was speaking aloud when the elevator door opened on the top floor.

Plush, deep carpet greeted him, leading him to one of only three penthouse suites. He hadn't asked for the one of the hotel's largest rooms when he checked in but the fact that he often stayed here, and sometimes hosted elaborate business dinners in the hotel's restaurant, had given him automatic preferential treatment.

Given the length of his stay and knowing that he appreciated his privacy, the reception manager had insisted on giving him a top-floor suite.

Dimitri pulled a small, plastic key card from his pocket, noticing only then that there was something in front of the door leading to his suite.

'No', he corrected himself. 'Not something._ Someone_.'

A large, black backpack almost covered the person sitting behind it and it was only when Dimitri moved closer that his eyes widened in disbelief.

"_Andrei?_ What are you doing here?"


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

_Hotel Ritz, Paris, France_

_-_

Dimitri Marick checked his reflection in the elaborately framed mirror, sufficiently content with what he saw. He had shaved and looked slightly less ragged than yesterday. Unlike, Sean, Sandrine and O'Toole who were slowly succumbing to the long, gruelling hours at the Auberge and had begun to arrive there in khakis, shorts and t-shirts, Dimitri couldn't bring himself to wear anything more casual than a crisp, short sleeved shirt and fitted slacks, with matching belt. Oddly enough the only other person who made it a point to keep up her appearance was the one he least expected to: Anna Devane.

"You'd find it amusing, darling, that your sister and I do have something in common after all. We share this misguided belief that if we appear to be in control, we might actually will ourselves to _be_ in control," he mused aloud, turning his attention back to his son, asleep on his bed.

Dimitri saw him stir.

He watched as Andrei opened his arms into a full stretch and yawned loudly, nearly pushing the fluffy comforter off the king-sized bed before his eyes fluttered open. When he caught Dimitri staring at him his cheeks flushed with a hint of embarrassment.

"Did you sleep well?"

Andrei nodded, pulling the comforter up to his chin. "It is the biggest bed I ever sleep in."

"You can dream about it tomorrow when you're back in your dorm at Epsom."

Andrei narrowed his brows, shaking off his sleepiness. "No. I am not going back."

Dimitri sat down on the edge of the bed, trying to recall the conversation he had with his son last night.

"How in God's name did you get here?" he'd demanded after finding Andrei camped out in his hotel corridor.

"You gave me the address and telephone number of your hotel. I am not an idiot."

"How did you make your way here?"

Andrei had held up a credit card. A black American Express with Alex's name on it. It was a joint card with an obscenely high limit and Alex had simply given it to him.

"She said when I have an emergency, I can use it."

Dimitri had cringed, yet he knew the gesture shouldn't have surprised him. Alex had always trusted Andrei implicitly. Even during his troubled early days at Vadsel when he'd tried to run away and stolen jewellery from his teachers.

"You bought an airplane ticket with Alex's credit card?"

"No," Andrei had replied, as though it was a dumb question. "I cannot do that. I took out money from a bank machine and bought a train ticket. Two hours on the Chunnel train and I am in Paris."

"I am not going back," Andrei repeated. "Did you hear me?"

Dimitri sighed, back in the present. "Yes, I heard you. And yes, you are going back."

"You need my help to find Alex."

"No. I don't. I need to know you're safe and sound in England. So, I don't have to worry about _you_ while I try to get Alex back. You have school and training…"

"That's stupid," Andrei pointed out. "You don't have to worry about me. I am not a child. Me, I can help you!"

"There is nothing you can do here!" Dimitri shot back.

"You still didn't find her!" Andrei countered, flipping his legs off the side of the bed, rearing for the verbal battle they were both too tired for last night. "It is clear that you need my help!"

Observing him, Dimitri's mind drifted back to the orphanage in Romania. On their first encounter Andrei had pushed Alex against a wall, and on their second he'd called Dimitri an idiot for refusing to pay the blackmail for the child he originally wanted to adopt.

'We've come a long way since then, haven't we?' he thought cynically.

Yet the truth was far from cynical. Dimitri loved him now, just as he'd have loved his flesh and blood. He was proud of the young man for adjusting to his new life better and faster than Dimitri would ever have expected him to. Andrei's English had improved dramatically. He had reigned in his stubborn independent streak in order to prove to that he was good enough to ride the best horse to come out of Marick stables in decades.

"There's nothing you can do here," Dimitri repeated, moving a crystal ashtray towards him as he lit a cigarette.

Andrei stared at him, his grey eyes annoyed. "Alex hates it when you smoke."

Dimitri moved his lips into a frown. "Alex isn't here now, is she?"

"She told me you were very sick when she first meets you. That smoking is worse for you then for other people. That it can make you sick again."

Dimitri rolled his eyes and put out the cigarette. "I _definitely_ don't need you here to lecture me on my vices."

"I'm not going back until you find her," Andrei repeated.

"What about Tempus Fugit?" Dimitri asked. "You have a horse that needs you. Alex would hate it if you neglected him."

Andrei threw back his bed covers angrily. "I have no races this week! Tempus is not stupid, he understands that this week there is another person to take him for his exercises."

"And if in a week, we haven't found Alex?"

Andrei's face expressed its first hint of doubt. "You _have_ to find…"

Dimitri straightened his back and stood up. "If in a week we haven't found her, you're going back to Epsom." It seemed like a reasonable compromise, even if Dimitri had no idea what Andrei was going to do in Paris for a week.

Andrei eyed him. "Do you think she is okay?"

Dimitri wanted to tell him about the phone call. If anyone had a right to know, it was Andrei. But telling him meant hearing her voice in his head again.

"I don't know, " he answered. It was the truth. The phone call hadn't exactly answered that question.

Andrei's grey eyes lined with tears. "What if she is not okay?" He asked the question in a way that begged for reassurance.

Dimitri clenched his teeth. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. It was the one question he wouldn't allow himself to answer.

"Stop it," Dimitri rebuked him.

The answer upset him and it made Andrei appear smaller and younger than he was. In that insntant, he wasn't a man yet, but a boy who wanted someone to take him into his arms.

Dimitri wondered what would happen to his steely resolve if he did just that.

"You're a Marick now," Dimitri told him harshly. "You don't cry and indulge in pointless what ifs."

Andrei blushed and wiped away an embarrassed tear.

Dimitri straightened his tie. "Get up and we'll have some breakfast downstairs."

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow, Russia_

_-_

"Men don't just disappear off the face of the Earth!" Faison yelled into the telephone. "I want you to find him and to report back to me when you do, is that understood? It's a simple order, surely even you can handle that."

The man at the other end answered in French. Yes. Of course. If Jan Holstrom was to be found than he would find him. Had he let him down before?

Cesar Faison didn't bother answering the facetious question. He ended the call without another word.

"Where the hell are you, Jan?" he mumbled, just as a knock on the door stopped his frustration from mounting. There were few things Faison hated more than uncertainty and Jan's disappearance was filled with uncertainties.

"Come in," he barked, frowning when he saw the old English doctor enter his office.

"Good morning, Mr. Faison."

"What can I do for you, Dr. Thorpe?"

"I've seen both Scorpio and Anna, as you requested, and I came to tell you that I'm worried about Robert Scorpio because..."

"Tell me about Anna first," Cesar interrupted. "Have her injuries healed?"

Although Faison offered no invitation, the old doctor sat down across from him.

"She will need some physiotherapy but aside from that her injuries have healed well. It seems she was very fit before the accident."

Faison flashed a hint of pride. Anna's resilience never failed to impress him.

"She threw up before I saw her this morning and that's the one thing that concerns me; her continued nausea, " the doctor pointed out.

Faison's smile faded. "Is she reacting to the medication?"

The doctor chuckled. "She'd have to actually take it for that to occur. I still recommend you take her to a hospital for more extensive testing. Given her history of head trauma, she should have had an MRI, or at the very least a CT scan, knowing that she lost consciousness after her fall."

"She hasn't complained of headaches, has she?"

"No, but that doesn't mean…"

"No hospital," Faison reiterated with finality. "It's not what she wants."

Faison watched with pleasure as the doctor bit his tongue.

He took a sip of the cognac that stood on his desk. "Now, tell me about Scorpio."

"It's bad," the doctor started. "The bullet wound is gangrenous now…"

"I don't need details," Faison cut him off. "Give me a general report."

The old man, ran his fingers through his thick white beard. No aspects of this conversation seemed to perturb him and he accepted every interruption with nonchalance.

"His wound is infected. He also has pneumonia. If you leave him untreated, he could die sooner rather than later."

"That's what I sent you there to do this morning, isn't it? To treat him."

The doctor managed a smile. "There's only so much I can do for him in his current situation. I'm a physician not a miracle worker."

Faison felt increasingly annoyed. As if he needed yet another complication. Scorpio dying was not the issue. Scorpio dying before he told him how he found Alexei Estate was unacceptable. "How long?" he asked the doctor.

"Blood poisoning could kill him in days. He needs an IV, antibiotics…"

Faison frowned. "What do you need to do to lengthen his lifespan?"

The doctor inched forward, moving his hands from his beard to the desk top. "His living conditions are speeding up his demise. His mattress and blankets are filthy and blood stained. His cell is damp and cold." The doctor paused, "I saw two rats while I was there with him."

There was no accusation in the old man's voice. He was merely stating the facts.

Faison sighed. "There's an another cell adjacent to his. Well clean it out and move him there. Give him whatever he needs to treat his infection."

"That still doesn't solve the problem of the cold and the damp…"

Faison shrugged his shoulders. "Give him more blankets then."

He stared at the old man, curious as to how much he'd seen during his tenure as physician to some of Moscow's most notorious members of the mob. Nothing the old man had seen here at Alexei Estate seemed to disturb him in the slightest.

Doctor Thorpe got up, understanding that their meeting had ended. "Will do."

Faison appreciated the old man's discretion. In an era where gossip was equated with knowledge, discretion was an increasingly rare and valuable commodity.

"When you're done, please make yourself comfortable in one of the upstairs suites and tell Olga what you wish to dine on. I've already told Ivan you'll be staying another night."

"Yes, sir," the doctor replied with neither enthusiasm nor disappointment.

Faison barely noticed that he left the room. Scorpio wasn't the first thing on his mind, yet he would be damned if he let the arrogant Australian die before he made him talk.

His attention drifted to the Russian oil painting that hung on the wall. It featured nothing more than a vase and some flowers on a bare wooden table and yet it was one of Jan's favourites. Faison remembered the Swede saying something about the artist's clever use of light and his uncanny perception of depth and space.

Faison stared at it, unable to see past the bland colours and the uninspired floral arrangement.

"What is it that can possibly captivate you when you look at that?"

He thought he knew his assistant as well as anyone could know the quiet, meticulous man.

Faison took another sip of cognac. 'Should I be worried about you,' he thought glumly. 'Or is it me that I should be worried about?'

_Auberge Augustin, Paris, France_

_Later_

_-_

Anna Devane rubbed her eyes, pulling them away from the computer terminal that sat in front of her.

It had been a long morning.

Anna cringed when she thought back to the argument she had with David, after waking up three hours later than planned, following by Robin showing up unexpectedly at her apartment and not so unexpectedly taking David's side.

Rather than make her angry, Robin's presence made her realize just how easily her temper flared in recent weeks.

'I'm lousy at letting someone else take care of me,' she thought, glancing at her neatly bandaged wrist, grateful that, in the end, she hadn't left the apartment angry. That instead, she'd told David that she loved him. Not out of guilt or remorse, but because it was the truth.

Anna saw Sean heading out the door and hoisted up her purse and pulled out a container of Aspirin, shaking two pills into the palm of her hand. Maybe if she ate something along with them, the pulsing in her head wouldn't reach the point of making her feel sick.

"Another headache?" Sandrine Mutanga's voice startled her.

Anna wondered if ten seconds of unobserved privacy was really too much to ask for.

"My youngest sister, Marie-Therese has migraines," Sandrine pointed out. Her voice was soft and her expression kind, the combination of which made Anna feel guilty for being so irritated at her presence.

"She worries too much, my little sister, " Sandrine added with a smile. "When she has a migraine she goes into a dark room to close her eyes until they go away." Sandrine's smile faded, "But you, you just keep going. You don't even tell anyone."

Anna cringed at the observation. There was an unnerving frankness about Sandrine coupled with an eerie, inexplicable feeling that this woman knew her more intimately than she should.

"You'd keep going if someone kidnapped your sister wouldn't you?"

Sandrine's lips widened into another smile, "Yes, you are right. I would. But sometimes, it takes a strong person to admit they need help and that they cannot take care of everything by themselves."

Anna swallowed the pills with a sip of lukewarm coffee. "I'm not incapable of asking for help."

"I didn't mean…" Sandrine started.

"I'm sorry that your partner decided to go it alone," Anna cut her off. "I agree with you that he shouldn't have done what he did. You can't fight Cesar Faison alone. Trust me, I've learned that the hard way."

The comparison surprised the young woman and this time it was Sandrine who blushed. Anna thought it made her look even more strikingly beautiful than she was.

Anna put a hand over Sandrine's, feeling guiltier still for her irritation. "We're getting close. If we find my sister, there's good chance we'll fight out something about your partner as well."

"I hope so," Sandrine said softly. She turned her attention to the computer screen in front of her, as if wanting to change the subject. "Have you found any more connections that link Jan Holstrom to Cesar Faison?" she asked her.

Anna frowned. "I don't need to find any more links. The ones I have are screaming a connection to Faison and they are connections that I drew long before we ran into Jan on the street."

Sandrine pointed to a listing on the computer screen. "What about these? Why did you choose to put these in a separate file?"

"These are three instances of large scale financial transactions where I couldn't find a trail leading to Faison," Anna explained.

"You mean you have yet to find a link?"

Anna shook her head. "No. I don't believe there is a link."

Sandrine narrowed her brows, puzzled. "I don't understand. These are three huge transactions."

"They are," Anna told her. "They all have one thing in common."

"What?"

"Diamonds. African conflict diamonds being sold to some very eager buyers."

She watched as Sandrine pulled herself away from the screen, her dark skin losing a touch of its colour.

"It makes no sense. It's as though Jan Holstrom was acting on his own or on someone else's behalf during these transactions, because absolutely nothing leads us back to Faison."

Sandrine said nothing, staring at the computer screen in silence.

"Do you have any idea what he might have been doing?" Ana asked her. "You said you and your partner traced conflict diamonds back to Faison and yet, ironically this is the one time I can't find a connection…"

"No," Sandrine shook her head, clearly perturbed. "I can't see a connection here…"

"Sandrine…?" Anna asked. There was something odd about Sandrine's reaction to her findings.

She watched as the young woman made an effort to compose herself.

"You are right," Sandrine agreed. "You have more than enough proof linking Jan Holstrom to Cesar Faison."

Anna leaned back in her chair and sighed. "If Sean and Dan don't get something out of him soon, I swear I'm going to do it myself…"

Both Sean and O'Toole had insisted… no, not insisted, they _ordered_, that she keep her distance from Jan Holstrom.

"Both you and Dimitri are too close to this case to interrogate this man. Leave it up to us. We will get him to talk," they had told her. Sandrine had agreed with them and Anna had eventually agreed with reluctance. Neither she nor Dimitri had so much as seen Jan since they brought him in yesterday.

'And he still hasn't given us a damn thing,' Anna thought angrily.

Dan O'Toole interrupted her thoughts when he entered the room with a computer print out. "Good news," he announced. "We've narrowed down the origins of the call as coming from one of three main telecommunications towers, two of which are outside of Moscow."

"That only tells us what we already knew," Anna pointed out. "That Alex is in Russia."

"It confirms our guess," Dan corrected her.

Sandrine excused herself. "I need to make a phone call to Sampson. He's expecting to hear from me."

Anna turned her gaze to O'Toole. "Russia is the largest nation in the world! Limiting my sister's whereabouts to within several hundred miles of three telecommunications towers is like trying to find a needle in a haystack!"

"It's a hell of a lot more than we've had since we started looking," Dan reminded her.

Anna stood up to stretch her aching muscles. "Look… you're right. It's amazing to finally have a lead after all this time. But…" Anna pointed to the door that led to Jan Holstrom. "There's a man in there who knows _exactly_ where my sister is while we're playing connect the dots? Tell me that's not driving you crazy?"

"We don't know that, Devane," Dan corrected her again. "We have no idea whether this guy is close enough to Faison to actually be familiar with his current whereabouts. Or if he's ever seen Alex."

"He has, damn it!" Anna shot back. "You know that as well as I do." She waved at the computer terminal. "Here, take a look, we have proof coming out our ears!"

Anna sat back down, loosening the belt on her fitted skirt. She knew her attire was a tribute to her sister. Anna remembered how during Robin's breakdown her sister had spent countless hours at her daughter's bedside and never looked the part.

_"You spend the night sleeping on a hospital chair, sis. It's not right that you still look like a million bucks."_

_Alex had blushed at the compliment. "It's an old habit. If I look like I can't even keep myself together, my patients wouldn't trust my skills as a doctor." She'd smiled, "It's silly, really, because the most brilliant researchers I know are complete slobs. But sometimes perception is everything. When I was still practising, I needed my patients to have an unshakeable faith in me. Because faith instills confidence and when people are facing death, every thread of hope counts."_

' "Perception is everything",' Anna repeated, in her mind, wondering if her sister realized that one day her life would depend on it.

"We have proof that Jan Holstrom did business with Faison," Dan O'Toole pointed out to Anna. "But that's it. Theoretically, it could have been months since Holstrom last met with Faison."

"Yeah, right." She raised her eyebrows, surprised to see they were the only people in the room. "Where's Sean?" she asked.

"He went to the computer shop on Rue Alsace. There's a software glitch on his terminal…"

"Great," Anna mumbled.

"You look like you could use some fresh air too."

"What I could use is some reassurance that you and Sean are doing everything you can to extract the information we need from Jan Holstrom."

"We're doing everything we can, short of beating it out of him," Dan answered.

"Why stop there?" Anna asked him dryly.

Because he couldn't tell whether she was joking, O'Toole's eyes narrowed with disbelief. "I didn't hear that…"

"If Faison finds out the truth, there's no telling what he'll do to Alex. Us finding her in time could mean the difference between life and death," Anna reminded him, ignoring his look of disapproval. "Knowing that, why the hell are we treating this man with kid gloves?"

Dan O'Toole's expression hardened. "Because last time I checked we were officers of the law. Simply by keeping him here against his will, we're already breaking the law…I won't go any further than that, Devane."

"_You_ don't have to."

Dan didn't hide his revulsion at the suggestion. "I think you really do need to step outside for a few minutes."

Anna leaned back in her chair. O'Toole didn't understand. He couldn't understand because it wasn't his sister. If Jan talked they wouldn't have to waste time tracking phone calls and taking educated guesses as to where they might have originated.

A sudden idea occurred to her and Anna took a deep breath, allowing herself to process it.

"Fine," She said, picking up her purse. "I'll take your advice and get some fresh air to clear my mind. Did you want me to grab you something?"

The relief on Dan's face was obvious. "Yeah, an éclair from that pastry shop down the road. Not the one around the corner, but the one on Rue Bleury. Vanilla not chocolate."

Anna smirked. "Should I be writing this down?" She turned to the younger woman. "Sandrine?"

"Nothing for me," Sandrine replied.

Anna left the suite and headed into staircase that led to the ground level, several stories below. Instead of taking the stairs down, she sat down on the steps and glanced at the silver watch face of her Raymond Weil watch.

Five minutes.

Ten.

Fifteen.

Then she picked up her cell phone to call Dan.

"Hey," she said, adding a touch of irritation into the tone of her voice. "I'm at the pastry shop. I forgot my wallet…would you mind terribly bringing it down to me? So I don't have to go back?"

Dan grumbled something about not wanting to leave Sandrine alone with Jan Holstrom in the suite.

"There's no way he can get out," Anna told him. She sighed a sigh of relief when Dan agreed. "It must have fallen out of my purse, by the desk."

From the stairwell, Anna heard him leave the suite. Although she was certain he'd take the elevator, she moved up two flights of stairs, just in case.

In the distance, Anna heard the elevator door open and took another glance at her watch.

One minute.

Five.

Even at a brisk pace, it would take him a good ten minutes to walk to the pastry shop. Another ten to walk back.

'Twenty minutes alone with Jan Holstrom is more than enough time,' she thought.

Anna opened the door of the suite, only to see Sandrine's surprised face stare back at her.

"Anna? You are back? Did you not see Dan?"

"I did," Anna said, setting down her cell phone. "He decided to stay out for a few minutes."

"Oh…"

"There's a file in the other room, in the cabinet, with the heading Mittermeier," Anna told her, sitting back down at her desk. "Could you do me a favour and grab it for me?"

Sandrine nodded, "Sure."

Anna watched as the young woman left the room and went into the adjoining bedroom, to the hastily erected filing cabinet that stood next to one of the beds. There was such a disarray of laptops, chairs, paper piles and other office equipment strewn everywhere that, at times, she forgot that this was also a two-bedroom hotel suite, complete with beds and other furniture that they used mostly as space to pile their supplies on.

Anna knew the Mittermeier file folder was sitting on her desk. Knew that Sandrine wouldn't find it in the cabinet.

'But she'll try,' she thought with a stab of guilt as she walked quietly towards Dan's desk.

The third room was where Jan Holstrom was held prisoner. It was locked shut with a simple drugstore lock. One that Anna knew she could have picked in less than a minute. But that was more time than it would take to open it with the actual key.

The lock wasn't meant to keep her out. It was meant to keep Jan Holstrom in.

Anna pulled the lock's keys from the top drawer of Dan's desk and moved towards the door.

She opened the lock without the slightest noise.

From the corner of her eyes, she spotted Sandrine kneeling by the filing cabinet looking for the file that wasn't there.

It wouldn't take Sandrine long to figure out what she had done. Nor would it be long until Dan returned.

'It doesn't matter,' Anna thought, biting her lip as she opened the door and closed it shut behind her, fastening the lock from the inside this time. 'A few minutes alone with him is all I need…'

And there he was. His long, spindly arms awkwardly handcuffed to the iron railing of the bed, his face red and bruised as a result of their sidewalk scuffle.

Anna stared at him with disgust.

"Hello, Mr. Holstrom."

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow, Russia_

_-_

"I'm sorry," Alex whispered, running her hand along the horse's neck. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

The horse had balked when she first stepped near it this afternoon. Afraid. Mistrusting.

Alex didn't blame it.

It took nearly an hour of coddling and coaxing before the animal allowed her to approach it, and when it finally did, Alex rewarded it with two apple slices and a sugar cube, lowering her head against its mane, humbled by the animal's willingness to give her a second chance.

"It was a really stupid thing to do," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

Faison had told her that after she was thrown from the horse and knocked unconscious, the animal had returned to stay at her side until Faison reached her. It was a kindness she hadn't deserved after terrifying the horse.

Now Alex wanted nothing more than to jump on the horses back, but even if she made it up on her injured leg, she knew she'd be pushing her luck. It would also be asking too much of an animal that didn't owe her anything.

"Thank you," she said softly. "Thank you for your…"

She couldn't finish her sentence.

"That's amazing," a voice announced behind her back.

Alex turned around to see Faison's silhouette walking towards her, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hands. He was a dark figure, emerging from a halo of bright, afternoon light as he stepped into the darkness of the stable.

"No one has been able to approach her since your fall."

Alex's face flushed and she wondered how long he'd been watching her. "It took a bit of time," she said.

"But still," he said, as the horse turned away from them and headed back into the open pen. "I'm surprised she would let you near her. You of all people."

Alex shrugged. "It's the sugar cube."

"No, it's more than that," Faison countered, observing her as he always did. "You have a way with horses. I had no idea."

"No," Alex denied. "I'm just…persistent."

"Alright," Faison smiled. A gust of wind from the open door blew his shoulder length hair into his face. "If you won't accept my compliment."

Alex took a deep breath. Defensive. She was always much too defensive.

She noticed now, when the horse was gone, that her leg was throbbing from having stood on it for so long.

"I should sit down," she told him.

He nodded, putting a protective arm around her waist just as Dimitri might have done. "Come, let's sit in the shade," he told her as they walked towards the cover of the nearest tree. A broad maple tree with welcoming branches full of bright green leaves.

Faison ran his fingers along her arm. "You're getting a sun burn."

Alex wasn't surprised. Before coming into the stables she'd spent at least an hour outside in the warmth of the afternoon sun. It had been days since she was last outside. The tan she sported before being kidnapped was now replaced with a pallor that would undoubtedly burn in the bright sunshine.

She didn't resist when he helped her down to the grass and Alex welcomed the coolness of the shade. It was a gorgeous day and the blue sky above them was full of white, cotton-candy clouds.

"Can I get you anything?" he asked, taking a seat alongside her, using his arms to prop himself up from the ground.

Alex shook her head. "No."

She watched as he pulled a cigar from his pocket. She wanted to close her eyes and imagine she wasn't here, but back at Vadsel. It wasn't difficult to envision. While it lacked the rolling hills of the Hungarian countryside, the landscape was not unlike that of Vadsel.

There were corral fences. Horses. And a huge cast-iron gate. Except here it kept visitors out, rather than welcomed them in.

'And, after a ride, Dimitri might have done just what you're doing now. He might have lit a cigar, even though I would have told him not to. And then we might have made love…'

The smell of cigar smoke entered her nostrils. Was it possible that the man she loved and this man she loathed smoked the same brand? Or was she imagining an identical scent?

Alex leaned against the tree trunk and stared at the leaves rustling above her. It was a dreamily beautiful setting. Proof that evil could lurk in the most angelic spaces.

She shivered when Faison's face came back into her view.

He smiled at her. "I spoke to Doctor Thorpe this morning. He says you'll need some physical therapy."

"When I've recovered I want to leave the estate."

Faison's smile faded.

"You've told me I'm not a prisoner," Alex pressed. "Then prove it. Let me come and go as I please."

"Where do you want to go?"

Alex shrugged her shoulders, "I don't know…I need to know I'm not trapped here, that's all. Maybe Moscow? I want to see people. I need clothes. Clothes of my choosing." Save for Anna's black blouse and jeans, everything she wore since coming to Alexei estate had been hand picked by Faison and Olga, including the yellow dress she wore today.

Alex could see the conflict on Faison's face. He didn't want to deny her the request, yet he knew he couldn't honour it.

"You're not a prisoner," he conceded. "But I know you're still angry with me. If I let you go, I'm not sure I can expect you to come back to me yet."

_Yet_. Alex marvelled at his choice of words. Faison truly believed that Anna would grow to love him in time. It was a frightening reminder of the depth of his delusion.

A delusion that was also her biggest advantage.

Alex watched as he exhaled a wispy trail of cigar smoke, wishing she could the same. Wishing she could rise and escape into the sky like a wisp of smoke, impossible to capture.

Sitting put more pressure on her thigh than was comfortable and Alex used her arms to lie down onto the soft grass below noting its sweet, fresh smell in contrast to the harsh, musky cigar smoke.

"You don't trust me," she told him, looking up at him. "I understand."

"Trust comes with time. I want to trust you, Anna."

Alex stared at the sky. "It is beautiful here," she admitted. "I can imagine not wanting to leave this place."

Faison smiled, as he exhaled another whiff of smoke. "It means a lot to me, to have you say that."

Alex propped herself up next to him, noticing that he smoked the cigar without any pleasure. It was more of a need than enjoyment. "You seem anxious…is something wrong?"

His eyes creased into a smile, lining his pockmarked face more deeply than it already was. "No…not anymore. Not when I'm next to you. You remind me how lucky I've become."

His stare made her uncomfortable.

One of his hands moved to caress her cheek, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "So much that I love about you can't be measured or seen…your strength, your spirit," Faison said with a smile. "Sometimes it makes me forget how very beautiful you are."

He moved closer, his face mere inches from hers.

Alex bristled at the closeness, wanting to pull away. At the same time his voice echoed in her mind.

"I want to trust you, Anna."

"So beautiful…"

His hand now rested on the back of her neck, cradling her head.

Nausea rose in her throat and Alex wondered if Faison could hear the pounding of her heart.

His lips touched hers before Alex was fully aware of what he was doing.

"I want to trust you, Anna."

This kiss was different from the hungry, uncontrolled assault he planted on her lips before her fall off the horse.

This time it was gentle. Warm. Curious.

He explored her with unhurried delight, knowing he could take his time now. Confident that she would enjoy it just as much as he was.

It made her feel sick.

"I want to trust you, Anna."

Alex closed her eyes and fought back the nausea.

And when she was fairly certain that she'd won the battle, she moved her arms around his shoulders and kissed him back.


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Cesar Faison felt like he held the world in his hands.

Jan was missing. Scorpio was near death and as uncooperative as ever. Yet none of it mattered because, finally, at long last, Anna had found her way into his arms.

She had kissed him with as much pleasure and passion as he had kissed her.

Next to that nothing else mattered.

He smiled at her. Anna was still lying on her back, on the grass, her long, dark hair entwined in its fresh, green blades. Faison's fingers played with it, while he used his free arm to prop himself up alongside her.

"I've loved you for so long, Anna," he said, breathlessly. He wanted to say more, just as he wanted to bend down and kiss her again. But, with a willpower he didn't think he had, he refrained from both. Anna wasn't ready yet. She probably wasn't even ready for the words he'd just spoken.

"I know," was all she said. Her expression was unreadable, yet, thankfully, he saw no traces of regret on her face.

'Of course she didn't regret kissing me,' he thought. She had explored him just as hungrily as he did her. There was no denying her enjoyment of the moment.

'Guilt?' he wondered.

"Do you still love David?" he asked. It was a juvenile question but he had to know.

Anna looked at him, and this time he caught an unmistakeable sadness in her eyes. "No…I don't love him anymore. It was over between us long before Leah was born."

"I'm sorry," he said, tracing her lips with his index finger. Oddly enough he meant it. He couldn't imagine any man ever leaving her. "He didn't deserve you, Anna."

"Mmm…maybe you're right." Her hand reached up to touch his face. "Maybe you were right all along."

Faison took her hand in his and laid down on the grass next to her, his face nearly touching hers.

He didn't need to say anything. Or do anything.

Knowing now that she wanted him too, even if she wouldn't admit it yet, meant that he could take his time. It meant that everything would fall into place.

For now, he could simply stare into the blue sky above while leaves rustled overhead and horses played in the distance. Her breathing was even and steady next to his and slowly his heart started beating to the same rhythm.

It felt like heaven.

_Auberge Augustin, Paris, France_

_-_

"Hello, Mr. Holstrom."

Anna's gaze held steady as she searched the thin man's face for a trace of emotion.

"You do know me, don't you?" she said with an icy smile. "All those months ago, on that park bench, when Cesar Faison made you run after me when I was sick with morning sickness."

Jan Holstrom said nothing. Yet his eyes made no attempts to escape her gaze.

"I have a feeling your recollection for details and faces is just as good as mine, Mr. Holstrom."

A pained smile played on his lips. He was visibly uncomfortable and exhausted, his muscles cramped from the handcuffs. "I would like to think my eye for details is better than yours, Ms. Devane."

Anna leaned against the wall. With only a handful of words, he'd broken both his silence and his denial.

Alone with her, Jan Holstrom had decided he wasn't going to play games and Anna couldn't figure out what that meant.

"I had a strange feeling that it wasn't you," he said in English, his diction flawless in spite of an accent that volunteered his Scandinavian background. "There were tiny little clues."

Anna listened to him.

"I knew you were an art expert, and yet there were stunning items in the house that barely registered with your sister."

Jan paused, as though waiting for a reaction from her, knowing she was soaking in every word for clues. "Her accent," he went on. "It's slightly different from yours. It's more… English. And during those rare moments when I spoke to her I noticed that she lacked something…I'm not sure how to describe what it was, but it was something." He paused. "Don't worry," he added. "Cesar does not notice these little details. He is too blinded by his love for her…" He smiled. An ironic, cynical smile. "I meant…for _you_."

Everything he was saying confirmed what Anna, in her heart, already knew. That this man was close enough to Faison to known his every move.

"Where did he take her?" Anna demanded, hating the way Jan's words had made her skin crawl.

"You know I cannot tell you that."

"If you tell us where she is, we can protect you! We can change your identity, we can guarantee that he'll never find you."

Jan Holstrom laughed at the absurdity of what she was saying. "You cannot run or hide from him. You know that better than anyone else."

Anna knelt down next to him, an eerie foreboding of defeat crawling up her spine. "Cesar Faison is just a man. Nothing more, nothing less. He's not all-powerful."

"If I let you protect me, I spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulders," he said with the same defeat that she felt. "I spend the rest of my life knowing that one day he will find me and kill me."

"No…" Anna shook her head. "That's not true…if you tell us where she is, we end it, for once and for all. We get him and put him behind bars for the rest of his life."

"As if you could," Jan sneered. "Even if you could imprison him, we both know he would not be there for long."

"Please!" Anna begged, "I'm begging you! Please help us! If Faison finds out that he kidnapped the wrong woman… I'm terrified of what he'll do to my sister."

"He will kill her," Jan answered bluntly. "Just as he will kill me if he finds out I led you to her."

Anna felt a warm, unwanted tear roll down her cheek. "Knowing that, how can you protect someone like that?"

"Because he is my life," Jan answered simply. "Only a few weeks ago, I thought differently but now I've realized that my entire existence is built around him."

"What about my sister's life? My sister is a doctor, a healer, who spent most her life treating terminal ill patients. She is the last person on Earth who deserves this!"

"I don't care about your sister, " Jan answered brusquely.

Anna stood back up, anger glistening through her tears. "Then what do you care about then, Jan? There has to be something."

"It's too late now, for you to give me what I want. By holding me prisoner here you've already broken the bond of trust between me and him," Jan said sadly before his bruised, swollen face lifted into another smile, as though recalling a fond memory. "Tell me, Anna, have you ever visited the Sistine Chapel?"

His question was answered by a loud pounding on the door, followed by Sandrine's voice.

"Anna, what are you doing in there?"

"If it's already too late for you to regain his trust, then at least help us," Anna pleaded.

Jan shook his head. "I can't."

Her eyes narrowed. "Can't or won't?"

"Anna, open the door!" This time it was another voice, accompanying the pounding on the door. A man's voice. Not Dan but Sean.

"I already betrayed him once," Jan admitted. "I will not do it again."

There was a finality in his words that made Anna's knees go weak. The knowledge that this man held her sister's fate in his hands and chose to throw it away was unfathomable.

"Maybe it will be better for you, when he finds out…maybe after he kills her it will leave a bitter taste in his mouth and he will finally lose interest in you."

"Oh God…" Anna thought her knees would give in. "You bastard!"

There was no emotion in his words. Neither malice nor glee. He was simply stating the facts. Ending a life as vibrant as her sister's was an event no more or less unpleasant than visiting the dentist. It might not be enjoyable but it was for the best.

"If you don't open this door right now, Anna, I'm going to break it in!" Sean yelled through the door. If he wanted to, it would have been quite possible. The doors inside the rooms of the Auberge were made of little more than reinforced, painted plywood.

He wouldn't need to.

Anna fought back her rage. It was obvious that Jan Holstrom wasn't going to help them. He couldn't be bought, because he didn't have a price. Her talk with him was finished. In fact, she could barely bring herself to look at him anymore.

"Maybe it's better that Faison finds out," he added. "Because Alex is so unhappy with him, the alternative may not be so bad."

Anna swallowed. "What did you say?"

"She is tired and hurt and she won't be able to keep up the charade much longer anyway."

His words were like a whip, lashing out at her. "You have it in your power to help her, and yet you won't lift a finger. What kind of a coward are you?"

"I am not the one who asked my sister to fight my battle for me."

At the sting of his comment, Anna reached back and struck his face, sending his head crashing back into the wooden headboard of the bed he was handcuffed to. "You bastard…"

Jan couldn't wipe away the blood on his lips and it dripped down his pinstriped shirt. "_This_ is why you should be there instead of her," he pointed out. "Because you could fight him. Alex can't. "

Anna felt the tears run down her face again. "You said she was hurt! What happened to Alex? Tell me!"

"I don't think so…not after what you just did. You don't deserve another crumb from me."

Anna struck him again and this time the back of his head crashed against the bedpost with a thud. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she demanded through her tears. "How can you not feel anything? What kind of a person lets someone like my sister suffer only because they couldn't care less? Because they couldn't bother to lift a finger!"

"Anna, open the door!" Sean's voice echoed through the room.

Jan's bloodied lips lifted into another pained smile. "It sounds like you might be in trouble, Ms. Devane."

Anna wiped away her tears, moving to undo the lock on the door. "You're a lucky man. Lucky that we won't fight like your boss…"

Jan chuckled, "Right…except for you…" He tried in vain to rub the back of his head. "You would fight dirty, wouldn't you, Ms. Devane? Faison was right. You and him are more alike than I would have imagined."

Anna glared at him and opened the lock with trembling hands. When the door opened Sean Donely, along with Sandrine almost tumbled into the room.

"Anna, what the hell happened?" Sean demanded, shocked when he saw Jan's bloodied lip.

"Nothing," she said icily. "Nothing happened."

"I think you should leave this room right now," he told her calmly. He glanced at Sandrine. "Will you see to it that our guest gets cleaned up?"

Sandrine nodded, staring at Anna with a mixture of anger and disbelief. "I…yes, I will…yes."

-

Sandrine waited until they were out of earshot, then closed the door behind her, noticing that Sean did the same.

She shuddered when she saw the bruises on his face.

'Anna,' she thought incredulously. 'Robert's beloved Anna did that to you.'

Sandrine wondered if Robert knew what his ex-wife was capable of.

"You're the one, aren't you?" she asked Jan softly, in French.

"What?" he answered, groaning. The act of turning his head was a gesture filled with discomfort.

"You are Robert's informant, aren't you?" Sandrine thought of the connections Anna had made, of the transactions involving conflict diamonds. Transactions that she couldn't trace back to Faison. It all made sense now. Of course, Anna couldn't trace them back to Faison because Jan Holstrom would have made sure his boss never had a clue about them.

"I don't know what you're…" he started, his emotionless face showing its first hint of surprise.

"I know you are," she repeated softly. "And I think…I think, Mr. Holstrom that you and I can help each other."

_The room next door_

_-_

Anna felt Sean's hand on her shoulder, pushing her into the bedroom adjacent to the room where they held Jan Holstrom.

Silently, he gave her another push, this time onto the bed that was covered in a mess of paperwork, forcing her to sit down.

Sean closed the door behind them and sat down next to her. His expression was devoid of its earlier hostility and Anna wondered if, back in the other room, his anger had been for Sandrine's benefit. "I'm going to ask you again…what the hell got into you?"

Away from Jan's unreadable face, Anna suddenly felt drained. Empty. Her head pounded and she was oddly gratefully that the pain stopped her from feeling anything else.

"He knows, Sean," she said, in little more than a whisper. "He knows exactly where Alex is. He was there with them."

Sean's expression softened. "You're saying he admitted it?"

Anna nodded. "He didn't even try to deny it."

"What did you get out of him?"

"Nothing."

"But he admitted to having seen her?"

"Yes," Anna whispered. "He said she was hurt."

Sean cringed. "He could have been playing you…"

"No," Anna shook her head. "He doesn't play games, Sean. I'm not sure he's capable of it."

"Sweetheart, that doesn't mean he couldn't have lied," Sean suggested softly. "What exactly did he say?"

"He said that…" Anna heard her voice breaking. "He said that if Faison found out he'd kill her. That it might be for the best because Alex was tired and hurt and that she couldn't keep up the game much longer…" The tears came again, against her will and Anna cupped her face in her hands.

Sean draped an arms around her shoulder. "Jan's not with them now. He hasn't been in Russia the last few days. He has no idea what's going with them right now." His voice was calm. Reassuring.

"You're right," Anna admitted, wiping the tears from her cheeks. Forcing herself to regain a measure of composure. "I lost it in there…I'm sorry, Sean. I shouldn't have…"

Sean didn't let her finish, squeezing her shoulders tighter. "Stop. Don't apologize. You did what I've wanted to do since we got the bastard. What you did was…"

"It was unacceptable," she cut him off. "I was a Chief of Police less than a year ago, and today I almost beat up a suspect…I don't know what came over me."

"Stop it," Sean said harshly. "Don't you beat yourself up over this."

"Dan was right," she cut him off. "We're officers of the law. If we fight them the way they fight us, we're no better than the Faisons of this world."

Sean's eyes flashed with anger. Anger for the guilt that was etched on Anna's face. "Sometimes," he corrected her. "Sometimes you need to fight fire with fire and doing that takes just as much guts as taking the high road."

"It's what's always made us different from Robert, isn't it?" she asked him bitterly. "When push comes to shove we never hesitated to cross the line. But Robert would never have crossed the line. Not for anything. Or anyone."

She cupped her face in her hands, crying.

"Sweetheart, you're exhausted," he said gently, his hand rubbing her back. "It's been three weeks since Alex was taken. You haven't been feeling well…so you slapped that bastard a couple of times. So what? You've got to cut yourself break here, Anna."

He pulled her towards him. "I'm going to help, Sandrine. I want you to stay here and rest for a while."

"I can't…"

"Alright," He moved her hands from her face. "Then go out for some air. Take a long walk. But don't sit here and blame yourself for doing what each of us might have done."

"You wouldn't have…"

"Yeah, right." Sean smirked. "All you did was save me the trouble."

She looked up at him, her eyes wet. "Sean, I…I'm glad…" He watched her fumble for the words. "I'm_ really_ glad you're here."

He nodded, "Me too, sweetheart." He ran a hand through his hair. "I think you're wrong about one thing though. I think you're wrong about Robert. If it meant breaking the law for you or Robin, I don't think he would have hesitated."

Anna nodded, listening to his words even as she couldn't bring herself to believe them. Now that the adrenaline surge had worn off, she felt an exhaustion so profound she wanted to sink into the bed she sat on. Wanted to close her eyes and push every single thought from her mind. Alex. Faison. What she had just happened in the room next door. Everything. If only she could erase it all for a few hours of dreamless sleep.

As though sensing her weariness, Sean bent down to search for the pillows amidst their paper mess. "I really think you should get some rest."

"Maybe you're…"

Anna didn't have a chance to finish when they heard Dan's voice yelling through the suite.

"Anna! Sean! Where the hell are you?!"

Sean jumped out of the bedroom and Anna followed him. They ran into the room where they had kept Jan Holstrom.

What Anna saw made her gasp.

Dan O'Toole was kneeling on the floor next to a barely conscious Sandrine. A trickle of blood ran down the side of her face.

And Jan Holstrom was gone.


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

_Paris, France_

_Emergency Room, Marie Curie Hospital_

_-_

"How is she?" Sean asked Anna, as she stepped out of Sandrine's curtain-enclosed cubicle.

"She'll be fine. They gave her something for the pain and it's made her groggy," Anna said grimly, her own face weary with exhaustion. "Seven stitches. Concussion."

Sean frowned. "Is that right?"

Anna raised her eyebrows at the tone of his voice. "What do you mean 'is that right'?"

"There's something fishy here," he mumbled, pacing across the empty waiting room, his polo shirt loosened at the collar. "It's weird, Anna."

Anna sat down on one of the worn, leather-draped chairs. The entire room was an unflattering throwback to the sixties. "What are you getting at?"

Sean stopped pacing long enough to put his hands on his hips and direct his gaze towards her. "We were gone from that room what…a minute maybe? And in that minute Jan gets out of his handcuffs and overpowers her, without us so much as hearing a sound even though we're right next door? Tell me that doesn't seem odd?"

Anna sunk her head into her palms. "Sandrine told us what happened. That she undid the cuffs…"

"Which begs the question, just what kind of a trained agent would do such an unbelievably stupid thing?!" Sean interrupted.

Anna ignored him, finishing what she started to explain; "…because Jan tricked her into believing he was seriously hurt."

"Right. You believe that?"

"Why in the world would she lie, Sean?" Anna shot back, questioning his suspicions. She knew that he still harboured his initial mistrust of Sandrine Mutanga. Yet, at the same time, it was Sean who had checked Sandrine's credentials many times over and who had spoken with her boss, Clive Sampson. Ultimately it was Sean who had decided she could be trusted enough to join their team. Why then would he now suspect she had something to do with Jan's escape?

It made no sense and Anna's every instinct told her that Sandrine's heart was in the right place. That she was on their side. "Have you had a look at her, Sean?" Anna asked him. "Her head looks like it was hit by a bowling ball. She's in a lot of pain."

"Head injuries are notorious for looking worse than they are," Sean pointed out.

"I can't believe you're hung up on this when we have so much more to worry about," she said, pausing long enough to meet his gaze. "Do you think Faison knows already?"

"No…not necessarily."

"Why wouldn't Jan have told him the truth about Alex as soon as he had the chance?" Anna challenged him tiredly. "He's obviously proven his loyalty to his boss."

If Jan did tell Faison, it meant that Alex had run out of time.

Her sister had run out of time and still they hadn't found her. The thought of what might happen next terrified Anna and she had to force herself to push it from her mind. If she didn't, she was afraid the panic would crush her like a physical blow, rendering her immobile.

"We have to go to Moscow," Sean told her. "If we can get the help of the local authorities for some organized crime connections, we might be able to track him down."

It was a Catch-22, Anna realized. Getting the help of local authorities meant coming clean about what had happened. About the kidnapping and about the switch of identities. It also meant admitting that they had purposely avoided law enforcement until now and it could cost each of them their careers.

It was why they didn't issue an all-points bulletin to try and keep Jan from fleeing the country. Because it meant they would have to own up to keeping him at the Auberge against his will. Then they'd have to dig into Jan's past transactions to create a record of criminal intent. All of it would take time and time was one commodity they didn't have.

"If Jan wants out of France, he'll get out," Sean had convinced Anna earlier. "He has enough connections to give him a false identity within hours, regardless of whether or not there's a warrant for his arrest out there and keeping him out of Russia doesn't help Alex. If Jan wants to talk, all it takes is one phone call." Sean stopped pacing long enough to stare out the window of the waiting room. "Dan is telling Dimitri about what happened as we speak. If Marick can get his jet in from Hungary, we could be on our way to Russia tonight."

'Dimitri,' Anna thought with a shudder. The events of the last two hours had almost made her forget her sister's husband. 'How the hell is he going to react when he finds out we handed Alex a death sentence by letting Jan Holstrom escape?'

As though summoned, Dan O'Toole walked into the waiting room just as Sean spoke his name, looking as tense as they'd ever seen him.

"The Marick jet is on its way to Paris. It should land in less than two hours," he announced.

Anna jumped to her feet with lightning speed. "How did Dimitri take the news?"

A sombre look draped his face. "How do you think? After all this time, instead of telling him we made progress we tell him we made a mistake that could cost…" He glanced at Anna first, then at Sean, stopping himself in mid-sentence. "That could cost us… a lot. But," he added icily. "Before I take one more step with you…I want to know exactly what happened at the Auberge. How the hell did all three of you just so happen to let him get away while I was out getting pastries?"

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow, Russia_

_-_

_She was in a flower garden holding a rabbit in the palm of her hand._

_It whimpered in pain._

_"It's alright," she whispered to the injured animal, petting its soft fur. "I can help you."_

_One of its hind legs was crushed and she could only imagine the pain the animal was in._

_She was kneeling on the ground barely able to hold on to the squirming rabbit. One hand held it fast while the other ran over the damaged leg, feeling for the place…or places where the bone had broken. She'd done this before. Not with a rabbit, but with other animals. It was different, yet the same. In the end, tissue was tissue and bones were bones._

_"Hold still," she whispered to the rabbit. "I know it hurts, but I need you to hold still if you want me to make you better."_

_She thought of the materials she would use to set the leg. String and wood splints. Rubber bands and maybe a cotton kerchief to help fasten it._

_"Sasha! What are you doing?"_

_Alex jumped, nearly dropping the animal. "It's hurt, Mum. I'm fixing its leg."_

_Her mother's face was stern. Exasperated. "Let it go."_

_"I can't," she protested. "If I let it go, a fox will catch it. It's weak and hurt. We have to keep it safe in the cottage while I set its leg."_

_Her mother pulled the whimpering bunny from her hands so quickly that Alex barely noticed the animal's fur slipping through her fingers. Her mother had a way of doing that, of surprising her with her speed._

_The animal squealed and writhed, terrified in her mother's hands._

_"If I let you fix it, I think it's only fair that you do something in return for me, Sasha, don't you think?"_

_There was something odd in her mother's voice and it frightened Alex. She knew her mother only wanted what was best for her, but it didn't make Alex fear her any less._

_"What do you want me to do?" she asked, afraid of the answer._

_"I want you to promise me that's the last animal you're going to fix up."_

_"Mum, I can't…" Alex started to protest. She had a way of making them better. Her father said it himself. He said it was something special. A gift._

_"You're growing up, Sasha, and you are not going to waste any more time playing doctor with these useless animals," her mother said quietly, her lips a thin, hard line._

_"I have to Mum, Dad said not everyone can what I do…"_

_The slap came from nowhere, stinging her cheek with a searing, white-hot pain. Alex cried out._

_"I have big plans for you, Sasha," her mother said calmly, as though she hadn't just struck her. "I'm not going to let you throw them away."_

_Alex didn't know how to answer. Or what the right answer might be._

_"Do you promise me to stop wasting your time fixing up rodents?"_

_"Yes..." Alex nodded wildly. Anything to free the rabbit. "I promise…I promise."_

_Her mother held the bunny by the neck. "Since you're so smart, I assume you know what will happen to this bunny if I tighten my grip?"_

_Alex jumped up. "Don't, Mum…please! Please you'll break its neck! Please, Mum…don't!" Her voice was hysterical now._

_Her mother tightened her grip on the rabbit's neck and Alex watched the wounded animal struggling to breathe._

_"Please Mum!" Tears fell uncontrollably down her face._

_"Promise me, this is the last animal?" her mother repeated slowly._

_"I promise! I swear! I promise!"_

_Her mother dropped the rabbit to the ground, and at the same time Alex fell to her knees trying to break its fall. It scampered onto her lap, whimpering louder than it did before._

_Alex felt her mother's lips on her head, kissing her._

_"I love you, Sasha. You know that everything I do is for you, and I need you to trust me that I know what's best for you."_

_Alex agreed, unable to utter a single, coherent word._

_Her mother took off in silence and Alex was left alone in the enormous yard, burying her face in the rabbit's fur._

_"I'm sorry," she whispered into its drooping ears. "I'm sorry I let her hurt you. I'm so sorry…I'm sorry…"_

-

"I'm sorry…I'm sorry…"

Cesar Faison watched her. He had watched her all night. He sat with her until she fell asleep, and, although she was unaware of it, he stayed at her bedside long after.

She was a restless sleeper.

She tossed and turned and murmured in her sleep, her eyebrows etched in concentration even when her eyes were shut tight.

"I'm sorry…" she repeated the words over and over, her voice full of regret.

When Faison couldn't stand it any longer, he reached for her.

"Anna," he said gently. "Anna, wake up. It's just a dream."

"No…I can't stop…I have to help them. I have to…it's a gift."

Faison held on to her arms, to stop them from thrashing around. "Anna! _Wake up_!"

She gasped and jolted awake. She sat upright and only then did Faison notice the tiny pearls of perspiration on her forehead. Her eyes were wide open now.

"Anna, you're safe," he said gently, rubbing her back with one of his hands. "It was just a dream."

She collapsed back onto the pillow. "A dream…"

"Yes. A nightmare. But you're fine. Safe."

She turned her back to him, pulling the blanket up to her chin. "Leave me alone please."

Faison shuddered at the thought of her terror. "Anna, darling, I won't leave you like this. You're upset."

"I'm fine…"

"You're not."

"I am."

She wouldn't face him and Faison shook his head in frustration, climbing into the bed to sit next to her.

"Let me protect you, Anna," he said softly. "I know you're strong but sometimes we all need someone else's strength. Even you."

He stroked her hair, noticing that she was shaking.

Faison lay down on the bed, wrapping himself around her, as if the gesture could transfer the warmth of his body onto hers.

"It's alright, Anna," he whispered, kissing the back of her head, as his own head sank down on her pillow. "I'm here and I'll keep you safe."

She still refused to meet his gaze and judging from the occasional sobs he heard, she was crying.

He held her tighter, surprised that she made no move to fight him off.

Faison was fully clothed, and a blanket that covered her served as a further barrier between them. Yet, even so, the sudden intimacy between them that couldn't have been greater if were they lovers, lying naked beneath the covers.

Faison closed his eyes, marvelling at the knowledge that he finally held the woman he loved in his arms.

'She needs me,' he thought with contentment. 'Anna finally accepts that she needs me. Soon she will accept that she loves me. Soon.'

_Marie Curie Hospital, Paris, France_

-

"What the hell happened at the Auberge?" Dan O'Toole demanded, his normally unflappable calm replaced by the frustration of someone purposely left in the dark.

"Sandrine went to check on him and he attacked her," Sean spat out. "I explained that to you."

"Right," O'Toole replied. "That's what you told me. Now I'd like the truth."

Anna looked at him wearily, before turning back to Sean. "He has a right to know everything."

"After everything I've risked, I can't believe I still have to fight for that right," O'Toole said, his face flushing with anger as he paced across the room.

Sean glared at Anna. "We told you everything."

"You didn't tell him why Sandrine was alone with Jan Holstrom," Anna said softly. While the two men stood across from each other, elbows folded, she remained seated on the worn, waiting room chair. "You didn't tell him that I went in to see Jan before Sandrine did."

Anna caught a glimpse of Sean cringing, before seeing the disbelief in Dan O'Toole's eyes.

"You did _what_?"

"I had to try and make him talk…"

"You went in there after we mutually decided you shouldn't go near him?"

"I had to try...for Alex," Anna tried to explain, knowing it wasn't possible. Knowing he wouldn't understand.

More than the disbelief it was the disappointment in his face that stung her.

"Was it worth it, Anna?"

Sean rolled his eyes. "Of course if it was _your_ sister, you'd never have considered doing what Anna did, right? No, not you."

"Sure, I might have considered it," O'Toole shot back. "That doesn't mean I would have done it!" He angrily raised an arm into the air. "Damn it, Anna! What the hell got into you?"

Sean took a step towards O'Toole. "Let me point out, that it wasn't Anna who let that bastard escape!"

"She might as well have!"

"That's enough!" Sean yelled back, only to be told by a passing nurse to keep it down.

"Don't you dare patronize me after everything I've done!" O'Toole shot back. "You asked me to step outside the bounds of the law many times over since I got involved in this! I've risked my career and my reputation to help find Alexandra Marick. The last thing I need is to be told what to think from the people I'm trying to help."

"You make it sound so damn selfless," Sean said cynically. "So altruistic. You're forgetting that it's _our_ fault that Alex is gone. We're the ones who screwed up that night at the Pont D'Arcole! Cesar Faison got away with Alex because we were careless!"

Anna sighed, observing them both.

Sean had a habit of taking her side. She loved him for it but at the same time she knew she it was a biased loyalty. One she didn't always merit.

'Like today,' she thought, hating the look of disappointment in Dan O'Toole's face.

"Stop it," she said angrily, getting up to stand between them. "Please stop it. Both of you!"

"If we're going to play the blame game," Sean told her. "We might as well point the finger in the right direction."

"He's right…I shouldn't have been in that room with Jan."

"No, you shouldn't have," Dan agreed with her.

"But," Anna turned to face him. "What if it were your sister? What if you knew that man knew her whereabouts and wasn't telling. Would you stand back and do nothing?"

Dan said nothing.

"If you don't agree with my methods, then I don't want you to feel obligated to help us, Dan," she said softly.

"Anna, that's not what this is about…" he tried.

"You've been more than a friend and colleague to me. I can't imagine anyone else doing what you've done. If you can't go any further I want you to know…that I understand."

It was the truth, Anna thought. Daniel O'Toole owed her nothing. Her mind drifted back to the day Leah was born, to the hours Dan had spent waiting with Robin until her daughter came into the world. She couldn't have asked for a kinder friend and colleague.

"Anna might understand, but I don't," Sean cut in.

Dan ignored him, facing Anna. "I'm not going to back out."

"I'm telling you that I would understand if you did."

"I wouldn't," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "This is probably not the time to say this... but I care for you, Anna. More than I have a right to. But you made a mistake when you stepped into that room with Jan Holstrom. Even worse, on top of it all, you two tried to keep it from me."

"We were wrong," Anna agreed. "I'm sorry."

Dan turned his gaze back to Sean, removing his wire-rimmed glasses to rub his tired eyes. "You were. But that doesn't mean I'm going to give up."

Anna reached up to put an arm around him. "Thank you."

He smiled a lop-sided smile. "Thank me when we've found your sister." Readjusting his glasses again, he then headed for the door. "Can we meet at the Auberge in an hour? I told Dimitri to meet us there before we leave for Charles de Gaulle."

"We'll see you there," Sean told him.

He waited until the Irishman left the room before turning back to Anna, stifling back a yawn. "Well, that was interesting."

"He's a good guy," Anna replied, knowing she didn't have the energy to touch on the subject of O'Toole's feelings for her. "And he's right, after all he's done, we can't keep him in the dark."

"If you say so," Sean sighed. "I should head back to my hotel to pack some essentials and give Tiffany a call before we head to Moscow."

"I should see Robin and David."

Sean glanced at his watch. "I'll see you at the Auberge then."

"What about Sandrine?"

"I'm not sure we should be telling her our next move…"

Anna furrowed her brows. "You don't seriously think she had something to do with Jan gaining his freedom?"

"I hope not."

"I'm going to check on her."

Sean moved towards the door. "You do that, sweetheart. Just make sure you don't tell her anything."

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Faison kept his arms wrapped around her until she finally fell back asleep.

It took longer than he thought it would. Although she refused to turn around and face him, he could hear her occasional efforts to stop from crying, until he finally felt her breathing deepen. Until her body relaxed against his and she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

He kissed the back of her head before pulling out his arm from underneath her. It felt limp and useless and only when blood began circulating through its veins again, did he feel a biting, prickly sensation running all along it.

He would stay here with her tonight, he decided. In case she had another dream.

The nightmares worried him. They were worse and more debilitating than Anna had let on. He wondered what triggered them, and why the hell David Hayward never insisted she saw a professional to help her deal with them.

'Because you're a useless, spineless coward,' he concluded of the cardiologist.

He started moving his fingers, biting his teeth at the stinging pain, just as a knock pounded on the door of the bedroom.

He saw Anna stir in her sleep. Faison cursed silently, thinking that if the noise woke her, he'd have the head of whoever was on the other side of the door.

The person knocked a second time and Faison jumped to answer it.

"What the hell do you think…" he cursed as he tore open the door only to find Olga standing on the other side.

"Sir," she said with a panicked voice. "I'm so sorry to bother you and Ms. Devane."

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" he hissed.

"I know," she stuttered. "I'm so sorry…but there's a phone call for you."

Faison stepped out into the corridor, shutting the door behind him. He was livid. "It's three in the morning! Take a damn message!"

Olga winced at the outburst. "He…he said I had to wake you. That it couldn't…it couldn't wait."

"Who?" Faison demanded, wondering who had the nerve to summon him to a phone call at three in the morning.

"Jan Holstrom."


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Cesar Faison's right arm was still asleep when he picked up the telephone. A prickly sensation cursed through his hand when he clenched the receiver.

"Where the hell have you been?" he demanded.

"Sir, I can explain," Jan Holstrom's accented voice replied. "I had an accident…I was hit by a car. I was in a hospital in Paris. Unconscious for two days."

Faison soaked in the words, unsure what to make of them. "You had an accident?"

"Yes, sir. I went to get a snack at a corner store, late at night. Crossing the street from my hotel, a car swerved out of nowhere, and it hit me. I was unconscious and the identification I had on me has no links to you…"

"Yes, I know," Faison finished for him.

"Sir, I…"

"What now?" Faison demanded. The question was the closest thing to concern he was able to muster.

"I'm better...but I need to see you."

"If you're fine, then there's another dealer I need you to meet, in Istanbul, before coming back to Alexei Estate. I've been trying for days to reach you about him." Faison made no efforts to hide the annoyance in his voice.

There was no reply.

"Jan?"

"Sir," Jan's voice stammered. "Is there any way you can send someone else?"

"Why?"

"I need to tell you something. It's important."

"If it's important, then tell me now," Faison ordered.

There was another moment of silence, before Jan's voice re-emerged through a wave of static. "I need to see you in person."

A sense of alarm replaced the prickly feeling in Faison's arm. "Did something go wrong in Paris?" he asked. "Aside, from your accident?"

"No…not wrong but there's something I need to tell you."

Faison was losing his patience. "Then spit it out!"

"How…how long will I need to be in Istanbul?"

"Two days," Faison replied. "Three at the most."

Faison thought he heard Jan gulp.

"It is alright then. What I need to say can wait another three days."

Faison rolled his eyes, wondering what his urgent conversation could possibly entail. 'I swear if he tells me he's fallen in love with some damn Vatican sculpture, I'll have to replace him.' He bit his tongue. When Jan was on the ball he was priceless. He had a keen, analytical mind that allowed for certain eccentricities but lately his assistant's odd behaviour was starting to worry him.

"I will phone you with the details tomorrow morning," Faison told him. "I'll dispatch the jet from Sheremetyevo Airport to take you to Istanbul." Sending the jet was an extravagance that Faison normally avoided, but if Jan was hurt, it was a small concession to provide him some added comfort.

"Thank you," Jan said gratefully, acknowledging the gesture for what it was.

"Good night," Faison said brusquely, hanging up the phone.

He ran a finger along his lips, as he stared into the darkness of his unlit study, making a mental note to start keeping tighter tabs on his assistant.

'I feel as though I can't trust you anymore,' he thought bitterly. 'But then it doesn't really matter', he consoled himself. Once Anna was well, she would run his empire alongside him.

Perhaps with Anna at his side, he would no longer need Jan Holstrom.

_Marie Curie Hospital, Paris, France_

_-_

"Hey there," Anna said softly, trying to see whether Sandrine was still awake.

She watched as the young woman shifted on the bed, her brows narrowing in obvious discomfort as she slowly opened her eyes.

"Anna," she murmured. "Is that you?"

"It is." Anna moved to squeeze her hand, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "That's good. It means at least you haven't got amnesia."

Sandrine managed a meagre smile in return. "Did you catch him?" she asked.

Anna shook her head. "He got away."

The pained expression on Sandrine's face deepened. "Oh, Anna. I'm so sorry!"

"It's not your fault, Sandrine," Anna told her. "We shouldn't have left you in there to deal with him on your own. If anyone is to blame it's me and Sean."

Sandrine's eyes watered. "But it's me who let him get away. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Anna took a deep breath, wondering whether Sean's suspicions could possibly be right. 'But if so, then why? Why in the world would Sandrine help Jan Holstrom escape? Every thing she's done in the past weeks have proven that she's desperate to find her partner.'

It made no sense, and as much as Anna trusted Sean's instincts, she was convinced that this time he was wrong.

"Don't apologize, Sandrine. Just make sure you get well."

"What are you going to do now?"

"We're going to find my sister," Anna answered, her gaze drifting away from Sandrine and into space.

"They said they will let me home tomorrow," Sandrine said. "I will do whatever it takes to help you…"

Anna nodded. "I know."

She watched as Sandrine's eyelids closed, losing their battle to stay open.

"Get some rest," Anna said softly, not sure whether the young woman still heard her. She covered Sandrine with the thin, hospital blanket before turning around and walking out of the room.

Anna waited until she left the building before turning on her cell phone to call her daughter.

"Hi sweetie," she said when she heard Robin's voice on the other end. There was a cacophony of noise in the background, making Anna think that Robin was in some university cafeteria. "How are you?"

Robin mumbled something about having to stay late for a lab tutorial. Her mouth was half full, confirming Anna's suspicions of where Robin was.

"We got a lead," she told her, while flagging down a yellow Peugeot taxicab. "I have to leave Paris for a few days."

She cringed at the silence that preceded her daughter's barrage of questions. "No…there's nothing wrong," she lied. Robin spent enough time worrying; the last thing Anna wanted was to add one more thing to her daughter's overfilled plate. "A few days, maybe a week. No, you don't have to worry. David will stay with Leah."

Once inside the taxi, Anna instructed the driver where to take her, cringing when she caught the suspicion in Robin's voice. "Please don't worry…it's a lead. A good sign. No you don't have to come home…I'm only going to stop there briefly to pack some essentials. I'll call you with a contact number as soon as I have one. I love you."

Anna sank back into the seat after she turned off the phone, her daughter's words echoing in her head. "I love you too, Mom. And you better come back safe, because I couldn't stand it if anything were to happen to you again."

'Come back safe,' she thought with a grimace. Robin was the only one who could turn that wish into something that sounded like a command. 'You have to come back safe too, Alex,' she thought ruefully, unable to stop her thoughts from drifting back to her sister.

The taxi driver jarred to a halt at a red light, reminding Anna of her headache.

Her eyelids felt like sandpaper and she allowed herself to close them, knowing that the drive would take at least another ten minutes.

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow, Russia_

_-_

"He's better," the English doctor informed him. "I didn't think he'd survive the week, but the infection is abating. He's coherent now, no longer delirious."

"Scorpio's tough," Faison interjected. "He won't let a little dirt and damp finish him off."

He was in the study with Doctor Thorpe, holding a cup of coffee in his hands. He let the scent waft into his nostrils; wishing caffeine was an airborne substance.

Normally Faison was immune to fatigue. He could substitute a night of restful sleep with ten minutes of deep meditation and be no worse for wear. However this morning, after Jan's phone call and Anna's nightmare, for the first time in a long time, he couldn't stop his mind from racing long enough to attain any sort of benefit from his daily pre-dawn meditation.

As a result Faison experienced a feeling that was entirely foreign to him.

He was tired.

"How soon before he can stand another interrogation?" he asked the doctor, who also helped himself to a porcelain cup of coffee.

The old man chuckled. "That depends on how you plan on interrogating him."

Faison frowned. "I need him coherent, that's all."

The doctor sighed. "Then give him a day or two."

Faison acquiesced. "I will and then that's it. Scorpio has a week to talk. If he doesn't, I want him dead. Keeping him prisoner here is a risk that I don't want to have on my hands once Anna is well." He shuddered at the thought of Anna discovering Robert in the cellar of the estate, knowing it would forever destroy the trust he had worked so hard to attain.

"Anna has no idea he's alive," he mumbled. "If she knew it would change everything." Competing against a conniving cardiologist was one thing but Robert Scorpio was a whole other ballgame where Anna was concerned.

"If you need him dead, let me know," the doctor told him. "I can make it quick and efficient." He finished his coffee, setting down the cup and saucer next to a fresh bouquet of flowers on Faison's desk. "I will head up to see Anna now," he told him. "I hear that after I examine her you're travelling to Moscow with me?"

A look of concentration draped Faison's face. "I have two meetings there this evening," he answered. They were vital meetings with prime suppliers and although he dreaded the drive to Moscow, Faison knew he had neglected his business far too often as it was since Anna's arrival. Still, he hated the thought of leaving her after last night. Hated the thought of leaving her at all.

'A helicopter pad,' he reminded himself. 'It's about time I found a way around this godforsaken isolation.' Alexei Estate's isolation was both a blessing and a curse.

"I'm not sure yet whether I'll keep the meetings," he told the doctor. "Anna didn't have a good night. I'll wait until you've seen her, before deciding."

The doctor gave him an indifferent nod. "Fine."

_Marie Curie Hospital, Paris, France_

_-_

Sandrine Mutanga waited until Anna left the hospital room before opening her eyes again.

Despite the injections that had reduced the unbearable pounding in her skull to a only a steady throb, sleep evaded her.

She groaned as her mind drifted back to the Auberge. To Jan Holstrom.

_"You're Robert's informant, aren't you?"_

_"I know you are. And I think…I think, Mr. Holstrom that you and I can help each other."_

_He had denied it at first. Until Sandrine assured him she knew the truth._

_It all made sense. Robert had called him Hans. Had mentioned his accent._

_Then Anna had speculated that he was close enough to Cesar Faison to know his every move. And lastly, Anna had found traced multiple large transactions to Jan Holstom. Transactions involving diamonds. Transactions that couldn't be traced back to Cesar Faison._

_'Of course they couldn't be,' Sandrine realized. 'Because Jan Holstrom had made painstaking efforts to avoid any connections to the boss he was double-crossing.'_

_The only thing that made no sense was, that if Jan Holstrom were double-crossing Cesar Faison, why wouldn't he co-operate with Sean and Anna to put him away? Why the sudden loyalty?_

_'Not loyalty,' Sandrine reminded herself. 'Fear. Fear of going to prison alongside his boss before being able to enjoy his new wealth.' And then last night, a further realization dawned on her. If Jan was as cowardly as she suspected, he would be terrified of Faison finding out about his betrayal._

_"Where is he?"_

_"Who?"_

_"Robert!"_

_"I don't...know," Jan had stammered, confirming Sandrine's suspicions._

_"You know. I need you to tell me," she demanded in French._

_"I don't."_

_"Robert knew where Faison took her, because you told him."_

_"No."_

_"I can help you."_

_"You can't."_

_"If Faison captured Robert, he will do whatever he can to find out how Robert found him."_

_At that announcement, Jan's face turned white as a sheet. "Either way, I'm a dead man. What does it matter then?" His words suggested indifference, yet his voice and expression betrayed him._

_"Where is he?"_

_Jan squirmed and shifted on the bed, obviously in pain from Anna's blows. "He was captured."_

_Captured._

_Sandrine felt the blood drain from her head. Captured. The thought of Faison unleashing his wrath on the man she loved made her feel sick._

_"Then you can help him…" she managed._

_"No."_

_"Robert would never give away his source," she whispered. "But even he has limits. The longer he is with Faison the greater the chance he will be…" She couldn't bring herself to say the word. Tortured. "He will be… weakened."_

_"There's nothing I can do about that now," Jan told her._

_"I can help you, if you help Robert."_

_An oddly amused smile crossed Jan face, in spite of the blood that ran down his cheek. "You're not suggesting you will let me go, are you?"_

_"You're close enough to Faison to help Robert escape."_

_"Faison most likely suspects me, now that I have avoided him for over two days."_

_"You will think of an excuse," Sandrine told him._

_"And what is your insurance that I will help Robert once you let me go?"_

_Sandrine fixated an unblinking gaze on him._ _"If you let Robert go, he can't talk. He can't tell Faison. Helping him keep his secret is an act of self-preservation for you."_

_"What about Alexandra Marick?"_

_Sandrine stiffened, wishing Jan hadn't asked about her. Now that she knew Robert was still alive, it was the only thing she could focus on. Everyone else was focusing on Alex. There had to be someone who would fight for Robert._

_Sandrine managed a bitter smile_. "_I would love for you to help her too, but I'm not naïve enough to think you will. You have a reason for helping Robert. That is enough insurance for me. Right now that is all that matters to me."_

_It was a terrible, selfish thought. Yet the only thing Sandrine could feel was a chance. A chance to help the only man she ever loved. Even if that chance posed a further risk to Alex Marick. Sandrine knew she would take it._

_She had to take it. For Robert._

_Then she remembered that Anna and Sean were next door._

_"We don't have much time," Sandrine told Jan, aware he was now formulating a plan of his own. _

_"If you're going to let me go, then you have to make it look like it was an accident."_

_"Yes." Sandrine agreed._

_"Undo the handcuffs. Then I will strike you."_

_Sandrine had nodded. She would deal with whatever pain he inflicted, as well as the consequences of Sean's anger. Nothing could hurt as much as the pain of losing Robert._

_She undid the handcuffs, thinking Jan would tell her what he'd do next, but the blow came out of nowhere. Fast and hard._

_It sent her reeling._

_His spindly arm hit her face, striking her wildly on the chin, sending her body flying into the wall behind her, head first_.

_She was half-conscious when she was hit by the second blow, across her cheek._

_Sandrine saw stars across her eyes as bells started pealing inside her skull._

_After that, there was only Sean kneeling next to her asking her what happened._

-

Now Sandrine stared at the ceiling of the hospital room, her vision blurred from the tears that ran from her eyes.

Jan would tell Faison about Alex. Sandrine was sure of it. It made sense, because doing so would distract Faison from Robert. If Faison was distracted it would make it easier for Jan to help Robert escape.

Sandrine held herself as she curled into a foetal position.

_What if Faison kills Alex because of what I did?_

If Robert had to make a deal with the devil to save her life, Sandrine knew he would have done it. Without hesitation.

'You would have done the same for me.'

Sandrine sobbed.

Then why did it hurt so much? Why did it all make her feel so damn empty?

'Yet, if I could turn back the clock a few hours, I know I'd do the same thing again, because I would do anything for you, Robert.'

Because life without him was not an option.

'I'm sorry, Anna. I'm so sorry…'

Sandrine buried her swollen face in the hospital pillow and wept.

_Hotel Ritz, Paris_

_-_

Andrei Marick snatched a cigarette from Dimitri's nearly empty pack and held a match in his finger, lighting it with a strike against the small, black stripe of carbon.

He inhaled deeply, enjoying the familiar rush that went straight to his head.

He'd smoked at the orphanage all the time. Sneaking cigarettes and not getting caught was a matter of pride. It elevated his stature among the boys that tried to do the same and ended up with black and blue rears, from the beatings they got for their efforts.

It was an irresistible habit that Andrei continued at Vadsel, where the cigarettes were better and much easier to get a hold of. Sometimes he pilfered them from the staff, other times from Dimitri, who was as sneaky as Andrei in trying to conceal his own habit. The only thing Andrei hated was the look of disappointment on Alex's face whenever she caught him.

He hated the way a single glance of hers could inch its way right into his heart and he hated how that look suddenly left a bitter and acrid taste in his mouth, taking away the very pleasure the cigarettes were supposed to provide.

"I wondered how long it would take you," a voice announced behind his back.

Andrei turned around with a jump to see that Dimitri had entered the room.

Dimitri smirked. "Don't think I never saw you sneak them at Vadsel."

Andrei glowered at him. "I can smoke. I was not sick like you."

"I'm going to Moscow tonight," Dimitri told him, as he opened the hotel closet and haphazardly tossed out a few shirts.

"Moscow?" Andrei narrowed his brows as he exhaled a cloud of smoke, relieved at the lack of a lecture. "Why Moscow?"

"Because they've got a lead."

"A lead?" Andrei jumped from the edge of the bed he was sitting on and put out the cigarette in a crystal ashtray. "That is good news!" It was only when he saw Dimitri's anxious expression that Andrei sensed there was something else he wasn't telling him.

"Yes?" Andrei prodded. "It means they are getting closer?"

Dimitri turned around and sank onto the bed, shaking his head. "No. It doesn't."

"I don't understand…" Andrei started, noticing for the first time that Dimitri's hands shook.

Dimitri's face paled and it scared Andrei.

He reached out and offered his father a cigarette. Dimitri took it and lit it in silence.

"Dimitri, what's wrong?" he tried again.

"Anna and Sean caught a guy who worked with Faison," Dimitri said, his voice steadying with each inhalation. "Then they let him escape."

"They let him escape?" Andrei still didn't understand.

"That man knows that Alex isn't Anna," Dimitri explained. "And now he's gone."

Andrei's heart skipped a beat as he realized what that implied. "You mean he can tell Faison."

"Yes."

"Dimitri, you have to do something!" Andrei demanded. It wasn't possible that they could both be here, safe and sound, in this ridiculously luxurious room without any means of helping get Alex out of this mess.

"I know."

"But…why then are you going to Moscow? Why, Dimitri? Do you think she is there?"

"Anna, Sean and Dan think she's been taken to Russia. It's the only sort of concrete evidence we've been able to amass."

"Then I am going with you," Andrei told him.

"No, you're not," Dimitri said softly. When he got back up to pick up his travel case, Andrei notched that his father suddenly looked much older.

"You said a week!" Andrei protested. This was one argument he was not going to lose. "You said I could stay for one week! You gave me your word!"

Andrei almost felt a twinge of guilt when saw that Dimitri's eyes were bright red with fatigue.

"Paris," Dimitri said quietly, resuming his packing. "I said you could stay in_ Paris_ for a week with me. You're not coming to Moscow." Dimitri tossed him a piece of paper. "I asked the concierge to get you a train ticket back on the Eurostar to London."

Andrei threw it back to him, mumbling something that he hoped Dimitri wouldn't understand.

"What did you say?"

"_Ya govoryu po russki_."

"What?" Dimitri looked at him perplexed.

"I speak Russian."

"Yes, I understand what you said." Dimitri stopped shoving shirts and underwear into his men's Vuitton case. "You really speak Russian?"

Andrei nodded.

"You speak it fluently?"

"It is not perfect," Andrei admitted. "But we have to learn Russian in the orphanage. The movies we watch, they all come from Russia."

He saw a shadow of doubt cross Dimitri's tired face.

"I can help you in Russia," Andrei added. "I know you don't trust Anna and Sean. But you can trust me."

"My Russian is rusty," Dimitri admitted. "It was never my favourite subject to start." Learning the language of the people that had oppressed his own had never particularly appealed to him. As an Andrassy, not bothering to learn Russian was a matter of principle.

"I can help you," Andrei repeated, more confidently now.

Dimitri threw a glance first at the closet, then at Andrei. "Fine," he conceded with a sigh. "Take whatever you need, throw it in my bag and get ready."

_Anna's Apartment, Paris, France_

_-_

Both David and Leah were asleep when Anna entered her apartment.

She couldn't help a smile when she saw them together. David was lying on the sofa and Leah on top of him, her small body stretched out on his chest, her head resting against his shoulder. Leah's hand was clenched into a fist and it fit neatly into the small of his neck, rising and falling along with his pulse.

Her daughter's dark hair was growing fast and little tufts of it now covered her ears.

'She's growing before my eyes and I'm missing it all,' Anna thought bitterly. 'It's one more thing you're taking from me, Faison.' She was keeping tabs. 'Until I finally get my chance to kill you,' she thought, frightened at how deeply she yearned for that moment.

David startled in his sleep at the sound of her steps. "Anna…?"

Anna sat down next to him, sinking into the soft pillows of the sofa. She yawned, wondering how it would feel to sleep not for hours but days. Right here, next to Leah and David. Next to the man she could finally admit to still loving.

"Tired?"

Anna nodded, leaning her head against his free shoulder. Leah didn't stir.

Anna ran a lazy finger along Leah's thin strands of hair.

"She's growing so fast," she said quietly, stifling another yawn. "And her hair…it's getting so dark."

David chuckled. "Looks like she's got a couple of things from Dad."

"Just a couple, we hope."

"Right." David smirked, putting his free arm around her, pulling her closer. "You're home earlier than usual."

Anna closed her eyes. "I came home to pack."

"Pack?"

"We're heading to Moscow tonight."

David straightened his spine. "Moscow?"

Anna said nothing, opening her eyes again to observe her sleeping daughter. "She looks so content."

"Anna, why are you going to Moscow? Did you get a lead?"

"Something like that."

"Anna," David's voice sharpened. "Did something change?"

"Everything changed today."

There was concern in his eyes now. "What are you saying?"

"You remember I told you we caught one of Faison's men?" Anna asked him.

"Yes."

"Today we lost him."

David gave her a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

"He escaped from the Auberge and he knows Alex isn't me."

David's face mirrored his understanding of what that meant. "Oh God…" He held on to Leah, oblivious that she drooled on his shirt when he sat up. "But what…what does going to Moscow have to do with this?"

"It's the only marginally concrete lead we've established; a path to Russia," Anna explained, still resting her head against his shoulder. "We're going there because grasping at straws is better than doing nothing at all."

"You think he took her to Russia?"

Anna shrugged. "Faison has extensive connections with the Moscow mafia. It's not a stretch to think he would have taken her to Russia."

"What will you do once you're there?"

"We try and find Alex," Anna replied. "Before it's too late."

Seeing that Leah's head started to slide, David gently adjusted it, placing her sleeping body squarely on his chest, as he moved his free hand onto Anna's thigh.

"Promise me you'll be careful?"

"I'll be careful," Anna told him, pushing herself off the sofa.

David's hand moved to grasp hers. "I mean it, baby. You have to come back to us."

"That is the plan. I plan on coming back, with my sister." She didn't add that killing Faison was also part of the plan.

"I hope to God you find her safe, Anna. And when you come back..." he added, his expression serious. "I want this."

"You want _this_?" she asked, not sure what he meant.

"I want to come home to you every night," he said softly. "I want the three of us to sit together. You leaning against me. Sleeping. Watching TV. I want to have dinner with you and Leah every night…"

Anna managed a smile. "It all sounds so…unlike you, David Hayward. A while ago I would've sworn you'd have called that boring."

"I was wrong," he admitted, still serious. "I didn't realize how much I want this…how much I _need_ this. You and Leah. A family."

"A family," Anna bit her lip at the sound of the word. "I don't know, David…"

Holding Leah tight, he moved up to kiss her. "I love you, Anna and I will fight for us this time."

She returned his kiss, moving her hands to cup his face. "I love you too."

He ended the kiss sooner than she hoped, even though his look suggested he wasn't ready to let her go.

"Let me put her in the crib," he said softly, running a finger along his moist lips, while he got up, his other arm holding on to Leah.

"David…I can't… I have to go."

He smiled at her misinterpretation. "You're exhausted…let me put her in the crib so I can help you pack. I'll make you something to eat too."

Anna held out her arms, blushing. "Let me take her. It feels like forever since I've held her."

He handed her the sleeping baby, after planting a kiss on Leah's head. "I agree with you where Leah's concerned."

Anna raised her brows, cradling Leah in her arms. "You agree with me?"

"I hope she takes after you, not me."

Anna smiled, marvelling at how his touch had eased the tension from her shoulders. "If not, we'll give her up for adoption."

David laughed. "Just try it, baby."

Anna felt a twinge of guilt that she should relish in the moment as much as she did.

Even with Leah in her arms, her thoughts drifted back to Alex as they always, inevitably, did. 'Why is it that just as your world is collapsing, sis, I feel like I'm getting a second chance?'

Anna hesitated when she reached the crib. Instead of laying her daughter down, she held Leah closer, her eyes closing as she inhaled the baby's soft scent.

She felt David's hands on her shoulder.

"Baby, you okay?"

Anna nodded, setting Leah down now, covering her with a cartoon print blanket. "I don't want to let her go."

"That's how I feel about you going to Moscow."

Anna's gaze drifted towards her silver watch.

It was time to go. Past time. Even without traffic, she wouldn't meet Sean's deadline to meet at the Auberge, and Anna prided herself on her punctuality.

"I should go," she said softly.

David's lips felt warm against her neck. "I love you. I'm going to remind you every day when you come back."

Anna reached into the closet to pull out the same travel bag she'd barely gotten a chance to empty since coming back from Argentina with Sean. When she knelt down to empty it, David knelt down next to her.

"I'm going to make some tea while you get ready," he whispered.

"I don't have time…" she started.

"Yes, you do," told her. "You need to slow down for two minutes. For Alex and for you."

Anna raised her eyes to meet his. David had changed. Fatherhood had changed him. It was almost too easy to love him now.

The corners of her lips rose into a defeated smile. "Fine. One cup of tea, and then I have to go."

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Alex slowly got up from the cold tiles of the bathroom, and slammed down the toilet seat after she emptied the contents of her stomach.

She steadied herself by holding on to the sink and groaned when she saw her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

She looked as good as she felt.

"Get a grip," she said with disdain, turning on the faucet to splash her face with water. "It was just one more stupid, senseless dream."

Cold water dripped down her face when she took a second glance in the mirror.

"Thanks for the memories, Mum," she whispered bitterly.

A wave of dizziness suddenly hit her and Alex closed her eyes, resting a hand on her stomach, until it passed.

When she opened them again the reflection that stared back was paler than the one she saw a few seconds ago.

"I don't get it," she mumbled. "Why do I feel like this?"

The physician in her couldn't correlate her continued nausea and dizziness with anything related to her injuries.

'Even if I did have a concussion, this doesn't make sense. Not so many days later.'

She'd initially suspected it was a reaction to the medication Dr. Thorpe had given her, but then she hadn't touched the pills in days and still the nausea was relentless.

'It can't be the antibiotics, can it?' she thought. Although she was rarely ill, she'd taken antibiotics before with no adverse reaction. 'Then again who knows where Faison's mob doctor gets his medication from and what exactly is in it?'

'Or maybe,' she thought staring at her pale reflection. 'Maybe it's a result of being on edge twenty-four hours day, terrified of saying the one wrong thing that could give me away.' The fact that she was plagued by nightmares and hadn't slept through a single night since coming here probably didn't help either.

Unlike some of her peers, Alex was a firm believer in the mind-body connection and she had no doubts that emotional stress could manifest itself into severe physical reactions.

'Reactions such as throwing up at the mere thought of facing another day here,' she thought, splashing more cold water over her face with trembling hands.

The bathroom door open with a whoosh, making Alex jump.

'There you are," the old English doctor announced.

Alex exhaled. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking?"

The old man wrinkled his nose. "Have you thrown up again?"

"No," Alex shot back, angry at the intrusion. She should have bolted the door, but when she had rushed into the bathroom earlier, just as her stomach lurched, privacy had been the last thing on her mind.

"Don't lie to me," the doctor chided her. "You look awful."

"Get out," Alex replied.

The Englishman sighed. "You don't look like you're in any condition to make threats. Let me walk you back to your bed," he said as he put an arm on hers.

Alex brushed him off. "I said get out!"

"Do you want me to call Cesar?"

Alex glared at him.

The old man smiled. "I didn't think so." He made a second unsuccessful attempt to hold her arm, contenting himself with the fact that she didn't protest when he led her back into the bedroom.

"Your nausea is starting to worry me," he said after she laid back down on the bed.

"For once, have a heart and don't tell Faison."

"He needs to know," the Englishman told her with what Alex could have sworn was a hint of glee. "If he feels you are unwell he may cancel his meetings in Moscow."

Alex cringed at the thought of another day of Faison hovering over her. "And you need to tell him why?"

The man who looked like Santa Claus sighed again, ignoring her question. "You persistent nausea worries me because I don't understand it."

"Oh, I see," Alex spat out sarcastically. "That's what's bothering you. The fact that your flawless diagnostic skills are unaccustomed to being left in the dark."

This time she seemed to have touched a nerve and the old doctor didn't hide his irritation. "Don't mock me, Ms. Devane. You have no idea how fortunate you are to have my services at all."

Just as her words riled him, his had the same effect on her.

"You're a disgrace to your profession," she said softly. "You take an oath and twist into something barely recognizable."

His normally pale cheeks reddened. "You have no clue what a life in medicine entails, Ms. Devane. If you'll refrain from your childish comments long enough to allow me to examine you."

"My sister is a doctor too," Alex said smugly, feeling her earlier nausea dissipate. "She'd be repulsed by you and your ethics of convenience."

"I know of your sister," the old Englishman replied, pulling up her bathrobe to check the dressing on her leg. "I've read some of your sister's work, Ms. Devane. Prion diseases used to hold a particular fascination for me. Particles so small they are barely detectable, yet, within mere years, they can turn a human brain into grey, useless mush and the life of its victim into an unbearable agony. It is a rather fascinating course of study, wouldn't you agree?"

Alex watched him observe her. Watched him trying to get a reaction from her.

"So what happened to your fascination?" Alex prodded him. "Your questionable practices didn't allow for any research grants?"

Doctor Thorpe's cheeks suddenly turned a darker red making Alex wonder just how close she'd come to hitting the nail on the head.

"Research grants are like pearls in oysters, Ms. Devane. They are rare and precious things. The world of medical research is full of genius, and when someone with your sister's photogenic good looks appears in that community…let's just say that the most deserving candidate doesn't always win."

Alex's eyes widened in surprise. During her years as a researcher she had competed for grants against so many research teams, she lost track. She had also lost track of the male physicians who had assumed her looks had helped her along the way. A presumption she had proven wrong, time and time again. 'It's not possible that this man was on a team competing for a grant against one of mine, is it?'

Alex swallowed, feeling suddenly uneasy while he changed the dressing on her leg. "It's so easy to blame your shortcomings on others, isn't it?"

The old man's lips tightened. "I don't deny your sister's genius. In fact, I once applied to work alongside her. I would have relished the challenge and had she given me a chance I know she would have been impressed with my insights."

'Would she?' Alex thought, observing him more closely, trying to remember where she could have crossed paths with him. Despite her efforts, she drew a blank and she suddenly had to remind herself who she was supposed to be.

"And?" she challenged, with more bravado than she possessed. "I'm sure my big sis was smart enough to reject you"

Alex winced as he yanked a bandage from her thigh.

"Your sister didn't even go so far as to grant me the courtesy of an interview." Bitterness filled his gaze in spite of his calm, steady voice. "I had so much to offer and she didn't even…"

Alex's heart beat faster and she was thankful that the bedroom door opened just in time to cut him off.

The old man's expression changed when he saw Cesar Faison enter the room.

Alex's eyes turned towards him, surprised at his appearance. Faison wore a black, three-piece suit and his normally wild hair was elegantly styled back into a ponytail. A chequered tie with matching studs and cufflinks gave him a striking presence that would have turned heads no matter what room he entered.

'Power,' Alex decided. 'You exude power.'

"Good morning, Anna," he said. He voice too had a silky richness she hadn't noticed before.

"Hello, Cesar."

Faison's eyes drifted to the old doctor. "How is she?"

"The wound is healing well," the Englishman said, looking at Alex. "But she is still throwing up."

Alex cringed.

Faison frowned. "Is it the dreams, Anna?"

Alex didn't answer.

Faison turned to Doctor Thorpe. "Give us a moment alone. Wait for me in my study if you are finished here."

"Yes, sir."

Alex watched as the old man left the room and Cesar Faison sat down next to her, on the bed. The scent of his eau de cologne filled her nostrils.

"Anna, is there something you're not telling me?"

Alex tensed. "I'm fine. The dreams make me queasy, that's all."

"I'll stay here today," Faison told her, loosening his silk tie. "I can reschedule the meetings."

"No, don't do that," Alex protested. "I'm fine. I know how much your business means to you."

"You mean more," he countered, taking off his tie and holding it in his hand.

"Please, stop it." Alex stood up and eyed him angrily. "Don't make me feel like a child. I hate that!"

Faison laughed unexpectedly. "Well, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were trying to get rid of me."

"You're the only company I have here," she replied, "Why would I want to do that?"

Faison eyed her. "I don't know."

Alex felt the tension build in her shoulders. She had to get him out of here. She needed a single day of freedom for the sake of her fragile sanity. "Last night…" she started, her mind spinning as she searched for what he wanted to hear. "Thank you for staying with me last night."

"Don't thank me for that, Anna," he replied. "I would stay with you every night if it were up to me."

"The dreams are frightening," she admitted. "I'm glad you were there."

"I may not be back tonight, if I leave for Moscow now," he told her.

Alex swallowed. It was a test. To see whether she meant what she had just said. Alex closed her eyes, dizzied by the prospects of what she would have to say to pass.

"You can't neglect your business," she told him. "You have to go."

Faison's face darkened in disappointment as he threw his tie back around his neck. "If that's what you think matters. I shall take your advice, as well as your word that you're fine." He stood up and then bent down to kiss her cheek. "Can I bring you something from Moscow?"

"Yes. Reading glasses. I miss reading."

Faison raised his brows. "I thought you had 20/20 vision?"

"Not anymore." Alex shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. "Amnesia and getting older affects your vision."

"I shall bring you a pair."

"Thank you."

Just as he was about to turn out of the room, Alex repressed her instincts and reached out for his arm. "Going to Moscow…it matters because you've spent your lifetime building your empire. But I would like it if…" The words caught in her throat.

"What Anna?" Faison asked, puzzled. "What would you like?"

"I would like it if you came back tonight instead of tomorrow."

The words spread a wave of exhilaration across his face and Faison cupped her face in his hands, kissing her on the lips this time.

"I will be back tonight then, Anna," he guaranteed, with a smile, "Tonight. I promise you."


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40 **

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Alex swung the gold coloured liquid around in the fat, bulbous glass, observing its change of colour whenever a ray of light pierced it.

She raised the glass to her lips and took another sip, cringing when the liquor hit the inside of her cheeks. Her expression softened only when the liquid settled in the base of her throat, filling and numbing it with a smooth, pungent warmth. She had finished most of the half-filled glass and could feel her mind clouding as a result. Even so, it was potent enough that she still had trouble swallowing it.

'Dimitri would have enjoyed this cognac,' she thought groggily, tightening her fingers on the crystal stem of the glass while eyeing the Louis XIII insignia on the elaborate bottle. 'Unlike me, he would have appreciated it.'

Alex yawned as she sat on the long, deep sofa trying to curl her legs underneath the soft, white bathrobe she wore. She gave up when her injured thigh wouldn't co-operate.

Alex groaned and moved her free hand to massage it.

'It's your fault it hurts,' she thought, her mind going back to this afternoon, when, irritated at Olga for following her around, she'd given up exploring the inside of the estate and headed out to the stables. Like a moth to a flame, she was drawn to the very horse she had ridden and fallen from. And because she wanted to let the animal know she meant it no harm, she hadn't been able to resist the challenge of riding him again.

So she did, despite Olga's protests.

'Now I'm paying the price,' she thought glumly, while her thigh throbbed. Had one of her patients been in her condition and done the same she'd have lectured them on their stupidity and not minced words. Even so, she looked back on the afternoon with a smile on her face.

After considerable coaxing, the shell-shocked horse had finally allowed her to mount it, and the ensuing ride around the parameters of the estate had given her a momentary respite from the constant tension of being inside.

If nothing else, the estate grounds were beautiful. Despite the endless, barbaric fence that surrounded it, the grounds boasted an abundant stretch of forest, dotted with occasional clearings that were slashed by thin, clear-blue ribbons of trickling water.

In many ways it reminded her of Vadsel. Except that Vadsel wasn't just a timeless estate. It was home and it was home because of Dimitri and Andrei.

'I miss you both so much…'

Alex took another sip of cognac, grateful of for its numbing effects.

Alex thought back to the guards that had stood by the gate, the cameras that lined the hallways and the constant watchful eyes of the staff that observed her when they thought she wasn't watching.

'I'm free to roam the estate,' Alex thought cynically. 'Free until I try to leave it.' Her mind drifted back to her disastrous attempt to jump Faison's fence. 'What a morbid illusion of freedom.'

Even within the estate there were parts that she now realized were off-limits, as she discovered when a young guard politely but firmly told her to step back as she tried to enter the cellar.

'What is it that you need to hide from me down there, Faison?' she wondered. 'Dungeons and torture chambers?'

A chill went up her spine at the thought that it might not be far from the truth.

Alex took a final sip, before setting the now empty glass down on the sofa table, and closing her eyes. Olga had lit the fireplace earlier and now the fire's warmth filled the room.

The cognac had its desired sedative effect and, while listening to the cackling of the wood embers, Alex drifted off to sleep.

It was only when a pair of lips kissed her cheek that she jumped back into wakefulness.

Alex felt Cesar Faison's hand on her shoulder, gasping as her heart threatened to jump out of her chest.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"I…I didn't hear you come in."

"I know," he said quietly. "I'm sorry I woke you. You looked so peaceful. It's the first time I've seen you like that since you came here."

_Since you came here…_

'I didn't _come_ here, you deluded bastard,' Alex thought angrily. 'I was drugged and dragged here, kicking and screaming, against my will.'

In spite of what had to have been a long, gruelling day, Cesar Faison looked as crisp and refreshed as he had this morning. His suit was still immaculate and devoid of a single wrinkle.

He sat down next to her, loosening his tie, in a small concession to comfort.

Alex started to push herself off the sofa, but his hand gently nudged her back.

"You're comfortable. Stay there," he said gently, undoing his ponytail with his other hand, letting his salt and pepper hair fall down to his shoulders. He smiled with eyes that couldn't stop looking at her. "You looked so beautiful when I came into the room. I feel almost guilty now for waking you."

Faison's image blurred in her vision, and for a moment Alex wondered whether it was the alcohol or the dim lighting.

"Don't feel guilty," she said sleepily. "All I've done lately is rest. It's starting to drive me crazy."

"You needed it. Olga says you went riding today."

"Do you have her spy on me?" Alex asked, irritated.

Faison chuckled. "She told me when I came home, that's all." He got up and reached for the same cognac decanter she'd used earlier, pouring himself a generous amount into a crystal glass. Alex noticed that he poured some into her empty glass as well.

"You're free to do whatever you like, Anna," he told her. He took a deep sip, as though it were water. "Although I have to agree that riding Schneefloeckli so soon after your accident probably wasn't one of your brightest decisions. I most surely would have stopped you had I been here."

Alex resisted a smile of satisfaction, knowing she'd done at least one thing that irritated him today. "She needed someone to ride her again. If you had left her for much longer, it would have been increasingly difficult to mount her. She was unresponsive and shell-shocked. "

"I know." Faison took another sip of the cognac. "But since when do _you_ know so much about horses, Anna?"

Alex blushed. The alcohol was making her careless. "I guess I picked up some things from my sister."

"Hmm." His expression was unreadable in the shadows of the firelight.

When he turned his face back to her, a smile was on his lips. "Speaking of picking up things. I brought you some things from Moscow."

"All I asked for were reading glasses."

His pockmarked face lit up with childish glee. "I know. I did bring you those. But I brought you some other things as well."

Alex watched as he got up to leave the room, only to return with two large shopping bags in hand.

"You said you needed some more clothing."

"No, I said I needed to buy some clothing _myself_," she corrected him. "I want to go with you, next time you travel to Moscow." Everything she was doing. All the placating, all the efforts to make him think she wanted him were with the goal of Moscow in mind. She knew once Faison trusted her enough to take her to Moscow, she could make her escape from there. In Moscow, away from this godforsaken isolation, she stood a chance.

"You will," he told her. "But in the meantime, I bought you some other things to wear. I know there isn't enough here for you to choose from."

Alex watched as he took out a handful of tops, dresses and pants. Clothing that, unlike some of the garish outfits Olga had picked out for her, was surprisingly well chosen. Elegant, classic cuts in brands and colours that Alex might have chosen herself.

"Thank you," she said, meaning it.

"You're welcome," he said, setting them down on the coffee table. "And this," he said, pulling out a smaller, flat box. "This wasn't something I planned on buying, but I saw it in the window of a jewellery store while waiting for my driver who was stuck in Moscow traffic."

He opened it for her to reveal a three-tiered pearl bracelet, linked not by a metal or silver but by dozens of tiny pearl-shaped drops of jade.

Alex tried to muster a trace of enthusiasm for the exquisite gift.

"It's beautiful," she admitted.

"May I?" he asked, taking it out of the box.

Alex held out her wrist as Faison slipped it on, kissing her hand as he did.

"I've always wanted to buy you things, Anna," he said softly. "I hoped I would one day. I was never entirely sure I would get the chance. Over the years, I would see so many things. Things that made me think of you, and things I could imagine no one else wearing but you."

Alex managed a smile. It sounded almost like something Dimitri might have said.

"Like that bracelet in the shop window today." He kissed her hand again. "Thank you, for finally giving me the pleasure."

"It's very beautiful," Alex repeated, and unable to meet his gaze any longer, she closed her eyes.

"You're tired," Faison said. "Let me walk you to your bedroom."

Alex agreed, sitting up groggily as she adjusted her bathrobe. She held on to him when she stood up, just as a stabbing pain went through her thigh.

Alex bit her lips, trying to ignore it. 'It's a five minute walk to the bloody bedroom,' she chided herself. 'You can do this without attracting his attention.'

It was a futile effort. Faison immediately noticed her hand on her leg and gave her a gentle push back down on the sofa.

Alex groaned, grateful that at least he hadn't scooped her up on his arms.

"Are you alright?"

"My leg is sore, that's all," she explained. "I'll sleep here tonight."

Faison frowned. "You're in pain because you went riding."

'Yes, it's sore because I'm an idiot,' she wanted to tell him in agreement. 'You _are _right this time.'

"Maybe," she relented.

"Not maybe," he corrected her. "It was a foolish thing to do." He rolled up the sleeve of his now wrinkled shirt. "Let me have a look at it."

Alex shook her head, her hand moving to cover her leg with her bathrobe. "No, it's fine. Really."

"Anna, stop being so stubborn," he said with a hint of frustration. "You're obviously in pain. For all I know you could have re-opened your stitches and neither Dr. Thorpe nor his nurse are in the estate any longer."

"I don't need a doctor," she sighed. "Or a nurse."

"Can I get you something for the pain?" he offered.

"No."

"Here," Faison held out his glass of cognac. "This will help."

Alex gratefully took another sip, wondering just how painful her leg would have felt were it not for the generous amount of liquor she'd already consumed.

"Let me look at it, please," Faison repeated.

That he bothered to ask permission at all surprised her, and she sank back into the sofa, not protesting this time as he brushed aside her bathrobe.

Alex knew it was possible that she'd ripped open the stitches during her ride and when she glimpsed a bright red bloodstain on the white bathrobe, she suspected that's exactly what she did.

"Oh Anna…" Faison groaned. "I knew I shouldn't have left you. I shouldn't have gone to Moscow…"

"For God's sake, I rode a horse today, that's all," she countered angrily. "I would have done it with or without your presence here."

"You're reckless!"

Alex observed him trying to maintain his calm and losing the battle. Gone was the perfectly tailored man who exuded power and confidence. Instead the man sitting next to her was falling prey to his emotions merely because she was hurt and he didn't know how to fix it.

No matter how deluded and deranged his version of love was. It was love, Alex realized. In his own twisted way he loved Anna. As much as any man ever loved a woman.

'And when he finds out I'm not Anna, it will kill him…'

It took a visible effort for Faison to regain his composure. "I'm sorry…" he whispered. "You're hurt and I'm yelling at you."

Alex took another sip of the cognac, finally immune to its bitterness. "Just let me stay here tonight."

"You need to change the dressing," he told her.

"It can wait until tomorrow."

"No," he said firmly, rolling up his sleeves. "I'll do it now."

Alex cringed at the thought.

"Stay here," he told her, getting up to leave the room.

'As if I'm going anywhere,' she thought, biting her lip.

When Faison came back, he had an armful of the nurse's medical supplies with him.

"Do you know what you're doing?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Yes, of course," he replied. His earlier anger was gone, replaced with a cool, steady calm.

Once again, Cesar Faison was a man in control, a startling difference which made Alex appreciate his earlier panic even more.

She didn't notice that he'd rolled up the side of her bathrobe, loosening its belt and inadvertently allowing it to slip off her side, exposing her nearly naked body underneath.

For a moment, Alex thought she saw him blush. That emotion too was swiftly brought under control and she felt his hand running along her ribs, down her stomach, along her bare skin.

Goosebumps raised themselves on her arms as his fingers explored freely, without hesitation or inhibition.

"You've lost too much weight, Anna," he said quietly, resting his hand on her stomach, not meeting her eyes as he covered her up again. "And you can ill afford to."

Alex observed him as he changed the dressing on her thigh, with a precision and a gentleness that put the English doctor to shame. When he saw her wince, he handed her the glass of cognac, watching as she took another deep sip, nearly emptying his glass.

His hands were calm and steady now and when he was done he rested them on her leg.

"That's better."

"Do you do heart surgery too?"

"That's not funny." Faison frowned as he disposed of her bloodied bandages. "I've patched up more than one field agent but it was never anyone I cared for. I wasn't sure I could do this."

"You could put your doctor out of a job."

Faison's face tightened, and Alex watched as his controlled calm dissipated before her eyes. "It's the one thing that frightens me. The thought of you hurt and me unable to anything."

"I'm sorry," Alex said, wondering if she sounded sincere. The effect of the alcohol was making it hard to sense how her words came across. "I shouldn't have been so careless."

"Yes," he agreed softly, "You shouldn't have." He bent down to kiss her. "You're the most precious thing in the world to me. Now that you have finally come home to me, I couldn't bear to lose you again."

Alex returned the kiss, grateful for the fog of alcohol that made it bearable. She barely noticed that her bathrobe had come undone again and that his hands had somehow landed on her skin.

She felt his fingers move downwards. Exploring.

The gesture repulsed her and she desperately wanted to push him away.

'Don't,' a voice in her head stopped her. 'Push him away now and he won't believe you ever wanted him.' Push him away now and everything she'd achieved over the last week would go down the drain.

'Push him away now and he'll never trust you enough to let you leave this place with him.'

Alex was no longer sure what terrified her more. The thought of his hands on her body or the thought of never leaving Alexei Estate.

An image of Dimitri flashed before her eyes, just as Fasion's tongue moved deeper into her mouth.

_If I can't get out I'll lose my mind._

_You have to understand, I can't let that happen._

_I can't._

Alex groaned as his chest pressed against hers. The buttons of his shirt were undone now and she vaguely wondered when he had loosened them.

"It's okay…" she heard him say as he breathing deepened. "Don't fight it, Anna. Please don't fight it this time."

He was warm.

Heavy.

She felt his arms first, then his legs, wrapping themselves around her while he continued kissing her. Her lips. Face. Neck. Her breasts.

His actions were neither harsh nor rough. Yet at the same time they didn't hide an explosive hunger that was no longer willing to wait.

"I love you so much."

Hands cupped her face and fingers weaved through her hair as his limbs entwined themselves with hers.

It was too late to stop him.

He was on her.

Inside her.

-

_Later_

_-_

Cesar Faison sat naked on the fur rug by the fireplace and lit a cigar.

From the corner of his eye he could watch her sleep and watching her now, as beautiful as when he had entered the room, he felt a touch of guilt.

He shouldn't have made love to her.

Not tonight.

Not yet.

She wasn't ready to admit to loving him. To wanting him.

The fact that she'd been an unresponsive lover was ample evidence and it solidified his guilt.

'She wasn't ready,' he thought sadly, unable to take his eyes of her.

'She was hurt and tired and more than slightly inebriated,' he thought, taking a deep drag of his cigar. 'And even so I couldn't control myself.'

Tonight, in the span of minutes she had taken his steely control and tossed it into out the window. Walking into the room with one glance, she had made his heart leap and only moments later, when he saw the bloody bandage on her leg, she had made it skip a terrified beat. Then her needs had forced him to rein in his emotions, yet that momentary control lasted only long enough for her touch to make it impossible again. It was an endless push and pull. A force that left him completely powerless.

'How will it work between us?' he wondered. 'When I lose myself each time I'm near you?'

He put out his cigar and got up to kiss her forehead, slipping the blanket that had fallen down onto the floor back to cover her body.

'I will have to find a way to make sure I don't lose control again,' he thought with a frown. 'I do love you enough to put your needs before mine.'

She stirred in her sleep and Faison waited until her breathing evened before he allowed himself to close his eyes.

He fell asleep sitting on the floor next to her.

_Later_

_-_

Alex wasn't sure what it was that woke her up. Whether it was the fierce pounding in her head, the steady throb in her leg or the bold, intrusive ray of sunlight that burst through a crack in the curtain and happily settled itself on her face.

Damn, it was bright.

Alex pressed a palm against her forehead, reeling at the pounding between her ears.

'The cognac,' she thought groggily. God, how much had she consumed?

Far too much.

She turned her head with care, only to see Faison, half-seated, next to her. Asleep.

And then the memory of last night hit her with a force that shook her entire body.

'Oh no…' she thought, as she remembered the way he had caressed her. How suddenly his body had pressed against hers. Naked. Hungry.

Alex held a hand to her mouth as the nausea came without warning.

'No…it's not possible…'

She threw the blanket off her body and her legs over the side of the sofa, nearly stepping on Faison in the process.

"Anna…?" he asked sleepily.

Alex tightened the bathrobe around her body and got up with a jump, ignoring the pain in her leg.

She barely made it to the bathroom in time.

And when her stomach finished rebelling against last night's excess, she heard Faison opening the bathroom door.

"Anna?" Gone were the traces of sleep in his face. His voice was sharp and alert.

"Please leave me alone," she whispered. She couldn't bring herself to look into the mirror in front of her, nor at the face of the man behind her.

"You're not well," his voice told her. "I'm not leaving you."

His arms folded around her waist.

"Please…go."

After he pushed back her hair, she glanced downwards to see his hands turn on the faucet.

"I'm not leaving you, Anna."

Alex splashed a handful of cold water on her face, still unable to raise her eyes towards the mirror.

"Last night…" she managed. "What happened last night?"

Alex felt his hands tighten on her shoulders. His lips pressed against her neck.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I know it was too soon."

The words were like a blow to her chest, knocking the air out of her lungs. It was true. Her memory didn't deceive her. Not this time.

Faison kissed the nape of her neck again. "I would never hurt you, Anna. You know that."

Alex squirmed at his touch. "Please leave me alone…" Hot tears ran down her cheeks, and her knees started to shake.

"Anna…"

"Please!"

Her plea cut through the air like a knife and Alex felt his hands loosen from her shoulders.

"I love you, Anna. Please don't ever forget that."

Concern and guilt bloated his words, making them sound heavy and forced.

Alex barely heard him close the door behind her.

_What have I done?_

She covered her face with her hands and sank to the cold, tiled floor.

Sobbing.

_Foyer, Alexei Estate_

_-_

Faison tightened his lips as he descended the grand, spiral staircase, hating what had just transpired.

He wanted to go back to her.

She was sick and upset and he hated the way it made him feel.

"Why?" he demanded to no one, pounding an angry fist into the mahogany wall. "Why does admitting she loves me cause her so much grief? So much guilt?"

The sharp pain that ran up his arm offered him no relief and he had to control himself from repeating the action.

"Is it because she still feels some sort of twisted loyalty to David?"

The notion wasn't altogether absurd. Anna was fiercely loyal and when she did love someone her love ran deep, and allowed for second chances that were often undeserved.

"Or…?"

As much as it wracked his mind, he hated considering the other option. "Is it because the thought of loving me feels sinful? Not only forbidden but loathsome and repulsive?"

The thought brought his anger to an almost unbearable level, and he forced himself to push it aside.

'No. That's absurd…' he told himself. 'She's upset because it happened the way it did. I made love to her when she was hurt and drunk…You can't blame her for being angry at that.'

He took a deep breath, staring at the Kiprensky still life that Jan was so fond of. 'I will make it up to her,' he decided. 'I will give her all the time and love she needs.'

Olga entered the foyer, her steps light and quiet, as though purposely not wanting to interrupt his thoughts.

"Sir," she started. "There is someone here."

"Who?" Faison demanded. Alexei Estate received no visitors without his knowledge and permission. "And why didn't the guards notify me?"

"Because I have security clearance," a familiar voice behind him answered.

"Jan?" Faison turned to see his assistant standing behind him.

It was a shocking sight. Obviously the accident had been more serious than Jan had admitted over the phone.

The Swede had lost weight from his already thin, wiry frame and a thick bandage ran along the side of his head and face, unable to fully hide the purple swelling that pushed out underneath. His blue eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with dark circles, as though he hadn't slept since Faison last saw him.

"I didn't expect you back so soon," Faison pointed out, unable to keep from staring at him.

"Mustafa's daughter was kidnapped by a rival dealer yesterday. He was unable to meet with me as a result," Jan explained.

"Oh…" Faison's brows narrowed, wondering if it was just his imagination or if Jan seemed even more soft-spoken than before. "You offered him our services, I hope?"

"Yes, of course."

Faison paused, pensive. "I'll contact him myself today and see what we can do for him."

Mustafa Kekec, a Turkish arms dealer, was one of his biggest clients, a purchaser of the illegal computer software he filtered through Russia. Keeping an alliance with him was important and Faison felt a stab of remorse for not having flown to Istanbul himself. Jan Holstrom might have a brilliant mind, but he lacked the smooth diplomacy needed in these dealings.

'People skills,' Faison thought, with disappointment. 'Jan has no people skills.' A shiver of excitement ran up his spine as he envisioned Anna meeting with his contacts instead. Her easy charm would give them an edge in any meeting. He smiled at the thought. Together they would be truly unstoppable.

"Sir…" Jan interrupted his thoughts.

"You should get some rest," Faison told him. "You look terrible. I can't have you negotiate anything with anyone in your current state." He paused. "Do you need me to call Dr. Thorpe to have a look at you?"

"Yes…I mean, no," Jan voice trembled. His frame looked as though it might topple over if he didn't find a chair soon. "Sir, there's something important I need to tell you."

Faison thought of Anna alone upstairs. "Can it wait?"

"No," Jan answered with surprising finality. "It can't wait anymore. There's something you need to know right now."


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter 41**

_Moscow, Russia_

_-_

"Are you sure we're doing the right thing?" Sean asked Anna, who was seated next to him in the back seat of the black Mercedes that was aggressively weaving its way through Moscow traffic, from Sheremetyevo airport. Dan O'Toole sat in the front, next to the silent driver. They'd lost track of the other car, carrying Dimitri and Andrei Marick.

"What do you mean?" Anna asked him, stifling a yawn. The flight in Dimitri's jet had been anything but relaxing. Heavy winds caused the plane to use more fuel than anticipated and required a refuelling stop in St. Petersburg, delaying their arrival in Moscow by over an hour. All while the air inside the jet had been thick with tension. Conversation between the three of them and the two Maricks was limited to short, terse snippets of necessary information sharing.

"By coming here we're launching a full-scale assault on Faison. I have no doubts he has connections inside law enforcement. He'll most likely find out we're here before we want him to."

Anna used her arms to brace herself when the Mercedes rammed on the brakes just as a delivery truck cut in front of them. Their driver pressed on the horn long enough to make Sean wince.

"Do you think you could get us there alive?" he yelled, leaning forward in his seat.

The chauffeur ignored him and Anna wondered whether he understood a word of English.

"You think by coming here, we're cementing the fact that Alex is not me," Anna pointed out, finally answering his question.

"Yes." Sean nodded. "If Jan hasn't told Faison already, we're the ones who are going to blow her cover now."

"Give me one good reason why you think Jan wouldn't have told Faison already?"

Sean frowned. "This guy's a complete puzzle, Anna. You offer him the world and he turns it down 'cause he can't imagine life without Faison? What does make him? In love? Or terrified?"

"All I know is that the man I spoke to in that room was willing to risk imprisonment and injury rather than give us the information we wanted," Anna told him, ignoring the cars that honked at them from outside. "I can't think of one reason why he wouldn't go straight to Faison with what he knows."

"I suppose you're right."

Anna bit her nails. "Don't think I haven't thought about it, Sean. I tried to concoct reasons why Jan might not spill, but I couldn't come up with a single one. Besides, by telling Faison, it makes him look like a hero."

"Still," Sean added. "O'Toole could've gone to Moscow on his own."

"No," Anna shook her head. "I'm not staying in Paris if we truly believe Alex is here. If she's out of time, she needs all the help she can get."

Sean shot her a sombre look. "I know." He glanced at his watch. "I called Fyodorov on the plane. He's going to meet with us in a couple of hours." Vasili Fyodorov was an assistant director of the SRV, one of the two post-glasnost successors of the now disbanded KGB. He was a quiet, unassuming man who had formed more than one unexpected alliance with Sean during his tenure as head of the WSB. If anyone could get them rapid access to a local intelligence database it was Fyodorov.

"What about Dimitri?" O'Toole asked, turning around.

"What about Dimitri?" Sean replied. "He can stay in his hotel room and order room service while we meet with Fyodorov."

Anna rolled her eyes. "Not this again."

"Why did he bring his teenage son along, as if he's going on vacation?" Sean shot back. "Dimitri's presence here is only going to slow us down."

"Alex is his wife," Anna reminded him.

"We're trying to keep his wife alive!"

"We've done a lousy job so far."

O'Toole turned around again, ignoring another screeching halt that made his chest tug at his seatbelt. "Sean's right. Dimitri and his son are going to complicate things for us." He glanced at Sean, "Our contacts might agree to take us into their confidence but they won't extend that offer to Marick. And being left out will make him furious at this point."

"So what do you suggest?" Anna offered. "That we tell Dimitri to take his plane back to Paris?"

"Sounds good to me," Sean offered. "I'll gladly break it to him."

"I doubt that will be an option," Dan O'Toole sighed. "Since he won't listen to either of you. Maybe I can talk to him and make him understand how important his discretion is. If nothing else Marick has a lot of money and he does do extensive business throughout Eastern Europe. He might even be more useful than we think."

"Right." Sean chuckled. "Good luck with that talk."

The black Mercedes came to a final, ungraceful halt in front of a grey, concrete building, marked by a sign that flashed the word "Hotel" in bright, neon letters.

Anna swung open the car door, noticing that Dimitri's car had arrived ahead of them. She stretched herself and shielded her eyes from the glaring July sun. In the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Dimitri in the hotel doorway.

"What are you waiting for?" she heard him ask, before he turned around and stepped inside. Out of her view.

_Cellar, Alexei Estate, North of Moscow_

_-_

His first, fully coherent waking sensation was that of his new beard scratching the mattress.

He had been awake before today. There had been odd moments of lucidity. Such as when he watched a rat, sitting perfectly still, observing him from in the corner of his room. Or when he felt Santa Claus jam something up his arm, jerking him back into consciousness.

'An intravenous needle,' he remarked, seeing the bag of milky fluid that lay suspended above his head. 'Among other things.' He saw more than one needle mark on his arm and Robert Scorpio suspected that, in the last few days, he'd been closer to death than he had been to life.

But now as he stared at the stone ceiling, slowly emerging from the fog, he knew his body was fighting back.

The infection had abated. Although his side still ached, it no longer throbbed as though it had a life of its own. He no longer wanted to crawl out of his skin because it felt like it was on fire. And he no longer shivered so ferociously that his teeth chattered in the damp silence of his room.

"You're going to live," he said weakly, testing his voice. "You're going to live and you're going to get out of here. With Anna."

By now Sandrine would have received the couriered envelope he pre-posted to her office address in Kinshasa. She would know his whereabouts and come for him, along with back up from the WSB. Regardless of how much he loathed him, Robert knew that Clive Sampson wouldn't let him die. He would also jump at the chance to take credit for capturing Cesar Faison and bringing him in to the Bureau.

It was a matter of days now. As long as he could keep himself alive for another few days.

He wanted to push himself off the mattress to test his strength, but decided against it.

'Not yet,' he decided, knowing he needed every ounce of strength for what would come.

Robert Scorpio closed his eyes, falling into a deep, healing sleep.

Not yet.

But soon.

_Auberge Augustin, Paris, France_

_-_

"_C'est pas possible_," Sandrine Mutanga pointed out to the innkeeper, incredulously. The room that had been their makeshift office for the past two weeks stood completely empty.

Gone were the computers. The phones. The fax machines, printers and filing cabinet that Anna and Sean had set up inside.

All of it was gone, and the adjoining rooms that Sandrine stared at now resembled any other hotel suite in down-town Paris, albeit one that was slightly larger and entirely devoid of frills and luxuries.

"_Ils sont venus hier soir_," the front desk clerk explained, after escorting her up to the room. "_Ca pas dure longtem_ps."

How was it possible that they cleared this room less than 48 hours after they had taken her to the hospital?

Sandrine turned to the man, demanding whether they had left behind a contact number.

"_Non_." The young Parisian shrugged his shoulders, shutting the wooden door to the room with a heavy, elaborate key. "_Ils m'ont dit rien_."

Nothing. They had given him nothing. Told him nothing.

Sandrine felt a growing sense of apprehension, one that even her steady headache couldn't quell. "_C'est pas possible_…" She was speechless. Repeating herself.

Sean, Dan and Anna had disappeared, without so much as telling her where they went.

"_Merci_," she said numbly, as the front desk clerk directed her back downstairs, subtly letting her know she had no more business here, on the guest floors.

It was hot and humid inside the small hotel foyer, and an exhausted fan swirled on the front desk, moving the stuffy air around.

The heat didn't bother her. Nor did the headache and the feeling of light-headedness that accompanied it.

The French doctor had allowed her to leave the hospital on the one condition that she promised to go home and rest. To stay away from any strenuous activities for at least a week and to report back to him in the event that she felt worse or different.

Sandrine had complied, with sufficient meekness and gratitude that had convinced the doctor she had no other plans but to go home and collapse into bed.

If nothing else, she played the part of the demure, African woman to perfection. She even had a colourful scarf to cover her head when she walked out of the hospital.

Now as she stepped back onto the streets of Paris, her long braids swirled freely around the bandage on her head and Sandrine struggled to curb her fear. If Anna or Sean suspected she had something to do with Jan's escape it meant they no longer trusted her.

She thought back to Anna's visit at the hospital. The older woman's eyes were filled with as much compassion as she'd ever seen them. She seemed genuinely worried about her well being.

'You are forgetting that she is just as good of an actress as you are,' Sandrine reminded herself. 'Anna was a double agent when I was still in school worrying about my grades.'

The thought sent a shiver down her spine. No matter what Anna did, Robert always forgave her.

'If he can forgive her treason, he will find it in his heart to forgive me for what I did when I let Jan go…' Sandrine thought.

Then again, what Robert thought didn't matter right now.

What mattered was that he was still alive. That if Sean and Anna no longer trusted her, she would lose her last link to finding Robert.

'I won't let that happen, my love,' she thought grimly. Sandrine picked up her pace and headed down the steps of the Metro, trying to remember where exactly Anna's apartment was. 'Not after coming this far.'

_Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of the Congo_

_-_

Clive Sampson, Director of the World Security Bureau's Central African office, took a final look at the handwritten contents of the envelope he had signed for in Sandrine's absence.

_-If you're reading this it means things aren't going according to plan. It means you were right. As usual. I need your help. And Sampson's._

_You can find Cesar Faison at the following co-ordinates…_

_I love you,_

_Robert-_

"And I loathe you, Robert Scorpio," Clive mumbled.

Much to his dismay, it had been days since he heard from Sandrine Mutanga.

Throwing more manpower and finances into one of Scorpio's personal crusades would be the last thing he would do. Sampson hated the man as much as the Bureau adored him.

He might have to be creative, but he'd find a way to explain Scorpio's death. The two African agents were young and expendable and Sandrine Mutanga owed him anyway. He would deal with her when the time came.

"Good riddance, Robert," he whispered before pushing the paper into the shredding machine.

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Fearing that he was about to collapse, Cesar Faison put an arm around Jan Holstrom's shoulder.

"Come," he gestured, "Come into the study and have a seat." He caught a glimpse of Olga near the end of the hallway.

"Bring us some coffee into the study," he told her in Russian. "And something to eat for Jan."

Olga nodded curtly and was out of his view before Faison could add that he wanted her to check on Anna as well.

Jan didn't protest when Faison gave him a mild push into the wingback chair, next to the fireplace.

"You look like hell," Faison told him, still shocked at the Swede's dishevelled appearance. In spite of Jan's protests, he decided he would call Dr. Thorpe in to examine his assistant.

Faison poured some cognac from the crystal decanter and handed the glass to Jan, who drank it in one deep gulp.

"What is it that you need to tell me so urgently?"

"In Paris…I…" Jan stammered, a glimpse of colour back in his cheeks. "I saw someone in Paris…"

"Who?" Faison demanded.

"I saw Anna Devane."

Faison said nothing, attempting to absorb the words, without success. Instead he laughed out loud. "You saw Anna? In Paris, last week?"

"Yes. I saw Anna in Paris."

Faison debated whether it was the head injury talking. Whether his assistant had truly lost his mind or whether at the moment he simply didn't know what he was saying. "You couldn't have seen Anna in Paris," Faison explained, as if talking to a child. "You might have seen her twin sister, Alexandra. It's possible that she's in Paris with Robin right now."

"I saw Anna, not her sister," Jan insisted, and to Faison's surprise, his voice was as steady as his gaze was lucid and direct. "You know that I have a photographic memory. I remembered her from the first time I saw her in the park, about a year ago."

"Look," Faison repeated. "You saw Alexandra Marick. I've seen photos of her and she's a dead ringer for Anna. That's who you saw in Paris!"

"No," Jan shook his head. "I saw Anna in Paris! Alexandra is the one who is here. With you. At Alexei Estate."

Faison laughed again. "That is the most absurd thing I have ever heard."

Jan stood up to meet Faison's disbelieving stare at eye level.

"Our encounter was brief, but Anna recognized me when she saw me in Paris. I know she did. I think, like me, she has an exceptional memory. She was there with Sean Donely. Her old friend and mentor. What would Alexandra be doing with him?"

"Alexandra Marick is trying to find her sister!" Faison shot back, angered at the absurdity of having to explain this at all. "Of course, Anna's old friend would try and help her. There's absolutely nothing unusual about spotting the two of them together!"

"When was the last time you saw Anna?" Jan asked him softly.

"I saw Anna several minutes ago, before you arrived at Alexei Estate! I don't know how you got this insanity into your head, but I'm not going to humour you any…"

"_Before _you brought her to Russia," Jan cut him off. "When was the last time you saw Anna?"

"I know Anna like I know the back of my hand!" Faison hissed, waving an arm in the air. "You think I wouldn't know if that woman upstairs was her twin sister? You think I'm that much of a fool?" His lips pursed into a deep, angry frown. "Is that really what you think? Do you think Anna would ever let her sister do such a thing? If you think that, then you have no idea who I am…or who Anna is."

"You haven't seen her since the explosion, have you?" Jan asked calmly. "It's been over ten years since you've seen her face to face and you just said yourself that Alexandra Marick is a dead ringer for her sister!"

"Listen to me," Faison's voice quivered next to the crackling of the fireplace. "I know Anna! I know every fibre of her being. The way she looks at me. The way she moves. The way she reacts…I know this woman as well as I've ever known anyone in my life! _That woman upstairs is Anna_!"

Jan remained standing, wincing as he steeled himself against the outburst.

"I don't want to see you lose everything you have ever worked for, for a woman who is not who you think she is," Jan replied, so softly it was barely audible. "I worked alongside you for too many years to watch you betrayed the way Anna is betraying you now."

"_Get out!"_ Faison yelled, no longer willing to tolerate the ramblings of a mad man.

"Please believe me," Jan stuttered. "Remember the times that you looked at Anna and there were things that didn't seem right…I know there had to have been times when…"

Faison banged his fist against the coffee table, sending the empty cognac glass crashing to the floor. "I said 'get out'!"

Defeated, Jan lowered his injured head. "I know you are angry with me now, but please think about what I have said. I'm doing this for you."

"_Out_!"

Fury and disbelief made Faison tremble.

He could barely stand to look at his assistant as he left the study. Olga entered just as Jan left, carrying a tray of silver ware.

"Take it back," Faison ordered and Olga did as he asked without uttering a word.

"He hit his head and lost his mind," Faison muttered. "There's no other way to explain what Jan just said." His once brilliant assistant was now a dishevelled mess of incoherence.

_"Remember the times you looked at Anna and there were things that didn't seem right…"_

What Jan was suggesting was impossible. Impossible on so many levels it was absurd to even consider.

Faison thought of Anna's initial reactions to his artworks. To the paintings. The icons. The porcelain. The Faberge egg. Timeless, priceless objets d'art placed there solely to captivate Anna, who could appreciate them as much as he did.

'She didn't react to them because she purposely wanted to show me her indifference to it all.'

_Or she didn't react because she truly had no idea of their value._

He remembered that on their first meeting she didn't recognize Jan.

'It's because she was unwell when she saw him in the park, that's why. Why would she remember him?'

_Or she didn't remember because she had never seen him before._

He thought of her attempted jump on the horse. A jump that no one but the most experienced rider would attempt.

'She did it because she's reckless. Anna always was…'

_Or she did it because she truly believed she could. Because she had that much faith in her abilities as a rider._

Faison's mind went back to her insistence in not going to a hospital after her fall.

'Because Anna hates hospitals. She always has. Of course she would insist on that.'

_Or was it because as a physician she knew that a more detailed examination of her injuries would reveal that, unlike Anna, she had no pre-existing cranial injuries?_

Then there was the phone call.

'I let her call Dimitri because he could tell her what she needed to know about Robin and because his line wouldn't be tapped.'

_Or she knew I would let her call him, because she knew precisely that his line would be tapped._

In my foolishness, did I let her call the man she loves?

"Stop it!" Faison gasped. Whatever voice echoed in the back of his head was absurd. As absurd as Jan's accusations.

Then there was the nightmare. When Anna woke up crying out loud.

Insisting she's not Anna.

How many times had he wondered about the fire and the daring that was missing from her eyes whenever she challenged him?

"I told myself it was because she's older now…"

The words choked in his throat. A sudden fury filled him and he used his shoe to crush the cognac glass on the floor. Cesar Faison pressed the shards into the wooden floor with a force that he hoped would quell his rage.

What Jan suggested was insanity.

It was utterly impossible.

Or was it?

_Anna's Apartment, Paris, France_

_-_

Sandrine knocked on the door of Anna's flat, wincing as the sound reverberated in her skull.

A man with jet-black hair answered the door and Sandrine knew who he was before he opened his mouth.

She held out her hand. "You must be David Hayward."

She had no time to indulge in petty observances and even so, her first thought was of Robert. Of wanting to compare the man that stood in front of her to the man she loved. 'He looks so different from you, Robert.'

"Do I know you?" David asked, declining her handshake.

Sandrine flipped open her wallet to reveal her WSB ID. "My name is Sandrine Mutanga. I'm an operative with the World Security Bureau."

Colour drained from his face. "Why are you here?"

"I worked with Anna…"

"Is she…?"

Sandrine watched as he searched for the words, realizing just then what her presence might have implied. "No," she assured him. "No. There is nothing wrong. Anna is fine."

She thought she heard a sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry," he waved her through the door. "Please come in. I just thought when I saw you that maybe…"

Sandrine offered him a smile. "I'm sorry, I did not mean to worry you. The reason I came to see you is…" Her smile deepened, and she blushed, "It is a little embarrassing." She pointed to the bandage on her head. "I was in an accident. It is why I couldn't go with the others. Anna gave me their contact number, but I lost it while I was in the hospital. I know she would have left it with you."

"Oh…yeah sure. I can get you the name of the hotel in Moscow," David offered. "In fact, Anna called me less than an hour ago to tell me."

Moscow. Sandrine's mind started spinning. It was true then. They did go to Russia.

"Are you sure she's tired?" a voice interrupted them. "Because she's definitely not giving me that impression."

Robin Scorpio walked into the room, wearing the same casual attire and easy-going smile she wore the last time Sandrine had seen her. Except this time she was holding a baby in her arms.

The baby was adorable. More so than Sandrine could have imagined. She had an infectious smile, one that lit up eyes that were almost as dark as the mop of hair on her head.

Sandrine thought of Anna. Thought of her tough, icy exterior. And of the stress and strain she had watched her endure during the past two weeks. Sandrine couldn't envision the same woman holding this child. Cooing to her. Feeding her.

'Maternal' was a word that didn't seem to suit Anna Devane, and yet this beautiful, happy child was unmistakeably hers.

"Hello Sandrine," Robin said as she recognized her, her father's smile turning into a worried crease when she spotted the bandages on her head. "What happened to you?"

"I had an accident." Sandrine mustered a smile. "It is not so bad. It looks more terrible than it is."

Robin cringed. "Are you sure you shouldn't be in bed?"

"She came to pick up some contact information for your Mom," David explained, looking for a pen and paper on which to write down the number Anna had given him earlier.

"Oh…" Robin didn't react when Leah threw the plastic toy she was holding to the floor. "Uh, Sandrine…do you mind, holding my sister for a sec?" she asked Sandrine.

The request surprised her. "I…yes, sure I will hold her."

As soon as she did, Robin gestured for David to accompany her to the kitchen.

The gesture made Sandrine nervous and in response Leah wrinkled her nose as though sensing her unease.

Sandrine held her tightly, kissing her cheek, thinking of how often she had looked after her sisters' babies. "It's okay. I won't hurt you, _ma chere_."

She heard voices from the kitchen and strained to make out what they were saying.

"She's WSB, David. Why wouldn't she have Mom's number if…?"

"She said…lost it…hospital."

"You can't just give it to her!"

Sandrine groaned. Everything was going to work out if it wasn't for Robin Scorpio's ingrained sense of caution. The irony that it was most likely Robert that had entrenched it in her, didn't escape Sandrine.

'If you only knew that I need to find them in order to find your father. If you had any idea how important it is that I find your mother.'

She saw them both emerge from the kitchen. Suddenly David Hayward's relief at discovering that Anna was fine was replaced by an obvious look of mistrust.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think I can give you that number." He hesitated before continuing. "I will let Anna know you were here, and that you were looking for her."

Sandrine swallowed, feeling the heat of defeat rise up in her cheeks.

She managed another meagre smile, hoping her voice wouldn't betray her frustration. She purposely steered her glance towards Robin rather than David. "I know you're being cautious, just as your mother taught you. But I really need to reach the others…and what I did was make a simple mistake and lose their contact information."

Robin gave her a thin-lipped smile, while taking the baby from her arms. "I didn't say I didn't believe you, Ms. Mutanga. I'll let my Mom know right away that you were here looking for her. I assume she has a cell number to reach you?"

Sandrine bit her tongue. "Yes…yes she does."

"Good," Robin replied tersely.

The mounting frustration made her want to scream. Yet Sandrine knew that the harder she pressed, the more Robin Scorpio would stand firm. 'If you're anything at all like your father…' So instead, Sandrine mustered a final fake smile.

"Thank you."

Robin gestured her towards the door. "You're welcome."

It wasn't until she was downstairs that Sandrine gave in to her irritation and kicked the doors at the apartment's entrance. "Of all the times for you to listen to what your parents ingrained in you, Robin," she muttered, annoyed. And to compound the problem, Robin would now alert Anna to the fact that she was looking for them.

'Moscow,' she thought, pushing open the door and heading back outside. 'At least David confirmed that for me. I will go to Moscow and if I have to call every hotel in the city…I will find Anna and Sean and Dan. Then I will do whatever it takes for them to take me back into their confidence.'

Sandrine stared at the blue sky above her, wincing at the throbbing under her eyelids. 'Whatever it takes, I will do it, Robert. Because you would do the same for me.'

_Anna's Apartment, Paris_

_-_

Robin set down Leah into the playpen that stood in the centre of the room, her soft features set in anger.

"I can't believe you were just going to give her Mom's address in Moscow," she told him. "Don't you think it was odd that she came here asking for that?"

David shrugged his shoulders. "Why would I? She showed me her badge, and Anna mentioned Sandrine more than once. Why wouldn't I believe her story?"

Robin looked at him incredulously. "She's WSB, David! What kind of WSB agent loses contact with the very people she's working with?"

David's defences rose along with the colour in his cheeks. "Did you see the bump on her head, Doc?"

Robin rolled her eyes. "If she doesn't have a means of getting in touch with Mom, I'm willing to bet there's a reason. Who knows what her accident was all about…"

"Look, I didn't think she was a threat," he said, with a hint of remorse. "I'm not used to second guessing every simple request and looking over my shoulders all the time."

Instead of placating her, his words had the opposite effect.

"Well, get used to it if you want to be with Mom! That's the world she lives in and you have to think!" Robin said angrily. "Or else your carelessness could jeopardize her life one day!"

David blushed. "That's not my world, Robin. I never want to be, and…" He eyed Leah observing them from her playpen. "It's definitely not the world I want to raise my daughter in."

Robin glared at him. "She's not just _your _daughter."

David sighed, holding out an arm, "Look that's not what I meant…"

Instead of accepting his embrace, Robin grabbed her purse and keys and made her way towards the door. "I sure hope not."

_Alexei Estate, Russia_

_-_

Cesar Faison's hand tightened on the door handle.

His anger threatened to crush it.

He opened the door slowly. Quietly.

And when he entered the room he saw her standing by the window, dressed in one of the outfits he had brought her from Moscow.

He took a deep breath and she turned around, startled by the sound of his footsteps.

"I see you're feeling better, Alexandra."


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter 42**

_Anna's Apartment, Paris, France_

_-_

Robin Scorpio tossed her purse on the coffee table and locked the door behind her, craning her neck to see whether David was around.

As if to answer her question, he walked out of the kitchen wearing her mother's cooking apron.

"Hi Robin," he said, his voice and expression surprisingly gentle.

Robin couldn't help a smirk as she read the inscription on the apron. "_Ne me laisse pas entrer dans la cuisine!_".

Robin had bought it for her mother when she first came to Paris as a joke. A tribute to her mother's absolute lack of cooking skills.

"Do you know what the inscription says?" she asked David.

"Master Chef at work?

Robin chuckled. "Not quite." It probably should, Robin thought, now that David was wearing it.

_"He is a great cook," her mother had once confessed, over a plate of his homemade lasagna. "If he wasn't he wouldn't be caught dead in the kitchen. David either does something better than anyone else or not at all."_

_The observation had made Robin grin and her mother blush. "I see why he's so hard to stay away from then."_

"I wasn't sure whether you'd come back," David said, interrupting her thoughts. "But I made some extra in case you did."

"Thanks," Robin said, holding out a bottle of red wine. "I brought you something to apologize."

"For?"

"Running out on you and Leah like a spoiled teenager. Speaking of whom, is she asleep?"

"She is."

Robin watched as he took off her mother's apron and sat down at the table with a bowl of beef stew in his hands. It smelled delicious and Robin made her way into the kitchen to open the wine and grab a bowl for herself.

When she came back out, she poured him a glass.

He offered to do the same for her, but Robin declined, taking two containers of her protocol out of the cabinet that stood next to the dining room table. "It'll mess with my meds."

"Right."

After swallowing the pills, Robin took a bite of the stew, savouring its rich flavour.

"I didn't mean what I said about Leah earlier," David told her, dipping into his bowl. "I want you to know that whatever decisions we make about her will always involve both me and your Mom."

"I know." She pushed an errant strand of hair behind her ears. "It's this whole crazy situation. It's making me testy. I think about Alex all the time. I wonder, is she okay? Is she hurt? What is she facing at this very moment?"

"I know."

"And now, on top of it, Mom's gone off to Russia to chase after the man that's been obsessed with her as long as I can remember. A man that almost killed her."

David took a sip of wine, letting her get the words out. "Robin, it's not going to help if we go crazy picturing all sorts of mad scenarios."

"I know, I know," Robin admitted, blowing onto to her spoon to cool the stew. "What you don't know is that I've been through this so many times before and I'm just so sick of it. I'm sick of feeling helpless and being worried to death about Mom, and yet I can't stop myself…"

"Because you love her."

"Of course I love her!" Robin said exasperated. "That's not the point…I just, want it to be over."

"Hey," David's hand reached. "We all do. Most of all your mother."

Robin said nothing as she stared into her bowl of stew.

"Your Mom told me about some of the things you had to go through when you were growing up. The danger, the threats, the guards…"

"But it all turned out okay in the end, didn't it?" Robin replied, unable to hide the sarcasm in her voice entirely. "I turned out okay."

"No," David shook his head. "It's not okay. As much as I know your mother would never be able to work a nine-to-five job, I know she doesn't want this for her family. She doesn't want Leah to have to go through what you went through when you were growing up."

"I still miss him, David," she said softly.

"You miss him?"

"My Dad. I miss my Dad and I really wish he were here right now. He always knew what to say to make me feel better when things got crazy like this." She blushed. "It's nuts, isn't it? I'm an adult now and I haven't had my father around in years, and some days I still miss him so much it hurts."

David chuckled. "It's not crazy. Leah better miss me when I'm not around. No matter how old she is."

Robin smiled. "I don't mean to lay all this on you, and I'm not saying it because I don't appreciate having you around. I want you to know that. You've been an amazing Dad to my little sister."

David's smile faded. "Robin...I'd never try to replace your father. I know I can't protect your Mom the way he could and some days I hate that. Like today, when I didn't think twice and almost gave that woman your Mom's number."

"Nobody expects you to be my Dad. Or react like him. Just love her. That's enough," Robin replied.

David made a half-hearted attempt at a another smile. "Is it?"

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Alex held herself, shivering in spite of the sun that pushed through the open window. Then she heard him, breathing behind her and she turned around in shock.

"I'm sorry," Faison told her. "I didn't mean to startle you, Alexandra."

Her heart skipped a beat. "What did you say?"

He moved towards her, placing an arm on her shoulder. "I said, 'I'm sorry if I startled you.'"

"What did you call me?"

"Alexandra." His stare was ice-cold when it met hers. "That's your name isn't it? Alexandra Marick, formerly Alexandra Devane."

Alex shirked back, running her fingers through her hair just as she had seen Anna do countless times. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You're not only an acclaimed researcher, you're also an accomplished equestrienne, something that I should have noticed. Because it's glaringly obvious every time I see you around a horse."

The sudden, unconcealed hatred in his glare terrified her. Yet, at the same time there was something else in his eyes. Something that his disgust couldn't mask.

Doubt.

_He knows. _

_Somehow he found out._

_But he's not sure._

_He doesn't want to believe it._

"You're mad." Alex was certain that her voice trembled when she spoke, and she dug her fingers into her palms in a futile effort to control her nerves.

'Mock him,' she thought, forcing herself to breathe. 'Mock him and get angry at the absurdity of his accusations.'

"Am I, Alexandra?" he said, grabbing her arm. "Or have you spent so much time imitating your sister you've lost track of who you are?"

She pushed his arm off with as much force as she could muster. "I don't know who you talked to while you were downstairs, or what you're on, but you're frightening me with this insanity that's coming out of your mouth…"

"Frightened?" he hissed, his unsightly face contorting itself in his rage. "You have no idea how frightening I can be!"

_Push back. Get angry._

Anna would.

Anna would fight.

"You think I'm Alex? You think I'm my sister?" she asked incredulously. "Really? And if I'm such a terrific rider why did I nearly break my neck on your stupid horse?"

"Why would you even attempt such a jump unless…"

"Unless what? I spent a lifetime riding horses?" Alex let the anger flow through her, relieved that it calmed her terror at the same time. "I tried that jump because I wanted to get away from these goddamn guards and fences you've put around my life. Because…"

Alex swallowed. Tears. She spent so much time crying lately, mustering a few fake tears wasn't difficult. "Because I miss my daughters so much. Because I haven't even had a chance to hold my little girl since she got out of the hospital…"

Alex wiped away a tear, seeing his anger blur with rising doubt.

"If you think I would send my sister to that bridge to meet you that night in Paris…then you really don't know me at all," she added.

Faison's eyes were fixed on her, as though sheer concentration would allow him to read her thoughts. "You certainly play your part convincingly."

Alex grabbed his shirt. Furious. "You think I played a part last night? When I let you make love to me?"

Cesar Faison was silent. His expression unreadable.

Guilt.

Alex could swear she saw a hint of guilt amidst the doubt and the anger.

Alex slapped him. "You bastard! I don't know who fed you these lies, but I can't believe that, after everything that's happened between us, you would believe them!"

She was about to slap him again, but this time he grabbed her wrist. And this time his tortured mix of anger and confusion couldn't have been more obvious.

"I don't know what to believe anymore," he whispered.

He let go of her wrist, shaking it off as though contaminated. "I don't know_ who_ to believe anymore!"

"You let me know," Alex said, her fury softening. "When you've got it all straightened out. Let me know so I can tell you where to go."

He turned away from her. Before he did, Alex caught a glimpse of the agony in his eyes, torn between wanting to believe her and being unable to bring himself to do it just then.

He slammed the door behind her.

Alex winced at the sound and ran to the door after him.

Her hands shook so hard she had trouble clasping the door handle.

When she did get a grip on it, her stomach lurched as her heart plunged into it.

The door was locked shut.

The little freedom she'd gained was lost again.

_Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Anna glanced around the room, filled with a sudden sense of weary deja-vu.

It was a hotel room much like the one they'd occupied in the Paris Auberge.

They had only been here for a few hours and already it was a mess. Papers were strewn across both double beds. Two laptops, hers and Sean's, were already set up. One on the room's only desk, the other within arms reach of where she was seated on the bed, and, in the corner, an aging coffee machine trickled black liquid into a bulbous glass container.

There were differences too. Unlike the well-kept rooms they had in Paris, here the wallpaper was peeling and the mouldy carpet at her feet had so many stains they threatened to form their own pattern. The pamphlets that littered the bedside table were yellow with age and written in a smattering of Russian and oddly translated English.

Anna stared absentmindedly at the one on top.

'You will be requested abstaining from smoking in suite.'

Instead of 'Do not disturb' sign she spotted a sign that said, 'Private Please' and got up to hang it outside the door.

As she did, she heard Dan's voice in the hallway.

"I'm not discussing this out here," he told an agitated Dimitri Marick, before stepping into her room.

"In fact, we all need to discuss this," Dan said, turning to Anna. It appeared as though his one-on-one talk with Marick hadn't gone well.

Sean stepped out of the bathroom and looked at Anna. He was sharing a room with Dan, yet most of his work equipment seemed to have landed in Anna's room. "I see we have company."

"You have some nerve, asking me to stay out of it!" Dimitri threatened.

"These men that we're meeting in Moscow are ex-spies, former intelligence officers. They're as suspicious as they come," Dan O'Toole explained, and judging from the irritation in his voice, Anna guessed it wasn't for the first time.

"They'll take us into their confidence because they know our names, they know our reputation, our history. If we bring in a stranger to meet with them, they'll clam up and we won't get anywhere."

"A stranger?" Dimitri was livid now. "How is it that we're talking about my wife and I'm considered the 'stranger'?!"

"The clock is ticking," Sean pointed out. "The more time we waste arguing, the more time you're taking away from your wife."

"Don't talk to me about wasted time," Dimitri shot back, spinning around to face Donely. "How long has it been since Alex was kidnapped? And where have you and your sources gotten us so far? You got us to Russia only because Alex found a way to call me!"

"Her phone call verified the leads we already had," Sean corrected him.

"We need to meet with our sources alone," Anna repeated. "Whatever we learn we share with you. That goes without saying."

"I'm supposed to trust you to do that?"

"If by now you don't trust that all we want to do is find my sister, then I don't know what else to tell you," Anna replied wearily.

"I'll tell you what I think, Anna," Dimitri glowered. "I think that you're grasping at straws. That every time you tell me I should trust you, you don't know whether you trust yourself to get any closer to finding her." He rested his hands on his hips. "After all, didn't you just let the one lead... the one person who could have led you to her, slip through your fingers?"

Anna cringed at the accusation, feeling the renewed sting of guilt each time she thought of Jan Holstrom's escape. 'It was my fault,' she thought. 'You're right about that one, Dimitri.'

"I hope this is making you feel better, Marick," Sean pointed out, looking at Anna. "Because if it's not, I'm not sure what your point is exactly."

"My point is," Dimitri hissed. "That I don't trust you've got what it takes to find my wife. I'm done with letting you call the shots."

"Or else?"

"If you don't let me come along with you, I'll do what I should have done days ago," Dimitri shot back. "I will go the authorities."

Dan rolled his eyes in disbelief. "If you go to the police now, after all this time, you're going to be their number one suspect."

"I don't care about me."

Sean straightened his spine, his anger apparent now. "You're going to do no such thing, Marick!"

"Or else you'll do what?" Dimitri asked, not moving an inch, even as Sean moved closer.

"Or else I'll be forced to stop you from your own stupidity!"

"Dimitri?" a fourth voice entered the room, making them all turn around simultaneously. "What are you doing to him?" Andrei Marick demanded, his grey eyes glaring at Sean with an intensity that made up for his small stature.

Sean took a step back. "We're having a slight... disagreement."

"Why?" Andrei asked, as an uncomfortable silence fell over the room. "What can you disagree about? It is simple. You have to find Alex!"

"Yes, but we need Dimitri's co-operation to do that," Sean snorted.

"Dimitri?" Andrei turned to his father, not understanding.

"This is more complicated than it looks," Dimitri mumbled. "It's a matter of trust. I don't trust them to find Alex."

A mix of irritation and disbelief marked Andrei's face. "There is nobody else, Dimitri! It is too late to go to the police. You told me that. So now it does not matter what you think!"

"He's right," Dan conceded. "It's way too late in the game for us to have to justify every action we take. For once swallow your goddamn pride, and let us do what we have to do, Dimitri."

Anna raised her eyebrows. Seeing Dan O'Toole lose his patience was a rare.

"You better find her," Andrei shot back, letting him know in no uncertain terms where his loyalty really lay. "Because it is your fault she is gone."

"You're right, Andrei," Sean agreed, appreciating the young man's bluntness. "It is. We know we're responsible for letting Faison get away with her and we're going to do whatever we can to get her back."

"Good," Andrei nodded.

Dimitri shook his head in annoyance. "Fine…call me when you get back. And I swear to God of I don't hear from you in a few hours…"

"You'll hear from us," Dan muttered, biting his tongue as he watched the Count turn his back and leave the room. He snuck a glance at his watch, and turned to Sean and Anna. "Fyodorov is expecting us in less than an hour. I'll meet you both downstairs in ten."

Sean nodded. "Fine." He eyed Anna, pulling out a cell phone. "I need to call Tiff. I'll see you in ten."

When Sean too left the room, Anna noticed that Andrei was the only still there, staring at her in silence.

With his wild, messy hair, his unusually small stature and his raw intensity, Andrei was the mirror opposite of the kind of sweet, gentle child she envisioned her sister adopting. Anna couldn't help but smile each time she saw him.

"Thanks for that," she told him, "I think we were overdue for a voice of reason in here."

"You look exactly like her," he pointed out, ignoring the compliment. "Like Alex."

"We do, yes. We do look alike," she agreed, surprised at the sudden observation. "But Alex is more elegant, more refined." Anna smiled. She also knew her sister was easily the more beautiful of the two of them.

Andrei said nothing, unsure what to say.

Anna rescued him from the silence. "I'm sorry we upset your Dad."

"Why do you not let Dimitri go with you?" he asked.

"Dimitri was right when he said it's complicated. It is. The men we're going to meet used to work in intelligence…"

"They are spies?" Andrei cut in.

"Some of them are," Anna nodded. "Some still work in intelligence. Some work for less reputable organizations. They're contacts that we established years ago, not always under the best circumstances. They don't trust a lot of people."

"How can they find Alex?"

"We think that Faison has ties with the Russian mafia. The men we're going to meet can give us access to police intelligence. They can provide us with names, data…you name it. Amidst it all, we're hoping to find some link that will lead to Faison."

Andrei sighed, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his khakis. "This will take too much time."

"Yes, but we need to start somewhere."

Anna got up running a hand through her hair. "I should head downstairs."

"I want to ask you something else."

"Alright..."

"Do you think he will hurt her?"

His question hung suspended in the thick, humid air of the room.

_How do I look into those grey eyes and answer that?_

"I don't know, Andrei."

Like all teenagers, he was relentless. "But what do you _think_?"

"I think…" Anna started, transfixed by his sullen face. _I think it's too damn unfair that you should lose the mother you only just gained._ "I think that we need to get to her as soon as we can."

Andrei shifted his weight from one foot onto another, suddenly uncomfortable in his skin. It was obviously not the answer he wanted. But she sensed he was too clever for lies.

"If he hurts Alex, then Dimitri will kill him," he said softly. "Then I will lose them both."

"Hey…" Anna got up to put an arm around his wiry shoulders. "Don't say that. Temper aside, your Dad loves you too much to do something quite that crazy."

She gave him a hug, and this time when she caught a glimpse of his grey eyes, she saw not only the fire and the anger, but also the fear, and the warmth.

_I can see why Alex loves you so much. It's because you have as many layers as she does_.

He squeezed out of her embrace, embarrassed at his momentary lapse of control and angry at the notion that he might have somehow betrayed his father.

He left her room and shut the door behind him without a word.

"You don't have to worry, Andrei," she whispered into the empty room. "When it comes to killing Faison, Dimitri will have to get in line behind me."

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Cesar Faison was fuming.

He had spent years training in martial arts. He had disciplined his body to focus and attune itself to the finest movements. He often meditated for hours and willed his mind to transcend into calm, serene worlds.

Yet at this moment it was all useless. All of it.

Nothing could curb his rage.

Instead of controlling it, he wanted to unleash it on the first thing he saw.

The ridiculously expensive painting that hung on the wall: Faison wanted to rip it off and tear it to shreds.

The horses he could see from the window of his study: He wanted to whip them and beat them, if only to have them feel a sliver of his pain.

The glass in the window, too, seemed to mock him, and in turn he wanted to kick it and punch it and let it disintegrate into a thousand shards.

He groaned. A deep guttural sound that only hinted at his fury.

Nothing made sense anymore.

The woman he had seen upstairs was Anna.

Everything she did and said was classic Anna.

The anger. The fury. The indignation. Even the fire he had missed in her eyes before was there today.

_Yet why would Jan lie to me?_

And what about all the doubts and questions Jan had raised?

If he confronted Anna again, all he would get would be more indignation. More denials.

'If she really is Alexandra, of course she would never admit it,' Faison thought as he stared out the window. 'She knows that I'd kill her.'

_Would I? Would I really kill Anna's twin sister?_

If he confronted Jan again, he would get the same stubborn insistence that he was right about having seen Anna in Paris.

'How am I supposed to tell them apart?' he asked himself angrily.

'I could put her to the test…make her remember things that Alexandra would never know.'

"Like what?" he asked aloud with a bitter laugh. "Ask her to remember things that she's forgotten because of the amnesia?"

Anna's memory was full of holes and Alexandra could easily use that fact to her advantage.

There were no scars. No birthmarks or defining blemishes he was aware of to distinguish one woman from the other.

Nothing.

He had never even met Alexandra Marick.

He could demand Anna prove her prowess in martial arts. Or her skills on the firing range.

"Except that Alexandra was raised by Charlotte Devane and that might give her those exact same skills..."

Cesar Faison shut his eyes in tired frustration, balling his fists at the same time. He wanted to sit down, yet he knew that his restless angry energy would not let him stay seated for more than a few seconds.

A new name danced in his head for no reason.

_Charlotte Devane._

Former head of a rogue spy organization, known only as Brynn Wydd; a name taken from its Welsh headquarters. Charlotte Devane was better known in his circles for her questionable psychological experiments.

'Brainwashing,' Faison thought. 'Everyone who is anyone in global espionage intelligence knows that behind its age-old stone walls, behind its façade of propriety, Brynn Wydd was a house of horrors, where experimental brain-washing techniques, long since banned in the western world, were still practised with impunity. Everyone knew. And yet, as long as Brynn Wydd's unethical practices yielded results, everyone turned a blind eye.'

He had met with Charlotte Devane more than once and Faison vaguely remembered hearing word of her recent imprisonment. "Based on charges brought on by her own daughter," he mumbled, repeating the words of the Internet bulletin he'd read a couple of years ago.

Alexandra Marick had put her own mother in jail.

If anyone could tell the twins apart, it was the woman who had raised one of them as her own.

Charlotte Devane.

Charlotte Devane, who had absolutely no reason to protect Alexandra now.

The slightest smile lifted his lips, as Faison turned on the computer on his desk.

His fingers tapped across the keyboard and Faison entered a password, courtesy of one of his contacts in the Moscow City Police. He searched until he found the phone number he was looking for.

When he found it he picked up the phone and dialled the number on the screen.

"Nigel," he said, breathing a sigh of relief when the man picked up on the third ring. "It's been a while."

There was a pause on the other end. A hissing intake of breath.

"I'm calling to remind you about Berlin." Faison liked to cut to the chase.

There was no reply.

"You do remember Berlin don't you?" Faison repeated.

He heard the voice swallow on the other end, sensing its dread.

"Of course."

Faison smiled into the receiver. Blackmail was such a deliciously smooth form of co-operation.

"There's prisoner in one of your Welsh prisons," Faison continued. "I need you to help me secure her release."


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter 43**

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow, Russia_

_Four days later_

_-_

Alex slid down the wall and hugged her knees to her chest when she reached the floor, staring out the window. It was the only part of the room that offered her a change of scenery.

"I could leave through the window," she said aloud, considering the option for the umpteenth time. The room was only two floors up. She could easily tie the bed sheets together and use them to lower herself onto the grounds of the estate.

Staring at it made her wonder how far she would get before the armed guards and their dogs spotted her. And if she somehow evaded them, how far she could go until she hit the gated entrance and the endless wall of fencing that surrounded the estate.

"How far until…" she repeated mindlessly.

Alex bit her nails while her gaze remained fixed on the window.

In spite of the grandfather clock that stood in the corner and its constant pendulum, that threatened to hypnotize her if she stared at it too long, Alex was starting to lose track of time.

Four nights had passed (or was it five?) since Faison had last entered her room.

It had been four days and four nights since her last conversation with another human being. The armed guard, who gave her plates of food she barely touched, didn't count. He performed his task in silence, three times a day, without so much as a grunt.

There was no television. No radio. No pen. No paper.

There was a bookshelf filled with books, yet trying to read them without her glasses made her eyes water.

Alex shivered, closing her eyes, trying in vain to focus on something.

Dimitri. Andrei. Anna. Robin. Leah.

She tried to picture their faces.

And when that didn't work she tried to remember other things.

The timeless beauty of riding through the Hungarian countryside.

The exhilaration when, after painstaking months of laboratory work, a conclusive pattern finally emerged.

The mouth watering taste of the lamb at her favourite restaurant in London.

If only her mind could focus on these sensations. If only her mind could leave the room, she knew it would be enough to help her pass another day.

Yet closing her eyes brought on another image. One she desperately wanted to block.

The image of him. On top of her.

Inside her.

Alex gasped and forced her eyes to open again.

She bit her nails harder, stopping only when she tasted the acrid warmth of blood in her mouth.

A greasy strand of hair fell across her face, and she brushed it away with the same bloodied finger, oblivious to the tears that rolled down her cheeks.

"How far would I get until…" she asked again, knowing no one would answer.

She stared at the window. Unblinking.

_Moscow, Russia_

_-_

It was almost one in the morning and Dan O'Toole knocked on her door only because he still saw light shining through the gap underneath.

Anna opened it seconds later, still wearing the same skirt and blouse she'd worn, two hours ago, when they had returned to the hotel.

"There's something I wanted to show you," he said, pointing to the CD he held in his hand.

"What is it?" she asked, inviting him in.

"The art auction that Grigori told us about, the one in St. Petersburg. I think I may have found something."

Dan sat down by the laptop she'd set up and slipped in the disc. A graph showing a list of buyers appeared on the screen. Although the buyers were basically anonymous, they did need to sign any final transaction with their initials.

"Here," Dan pointed out. "Can you see a pattern?"

Anna used the roller mouse and scrolled down the list, shaking her head. "No…not exactly. There doesn't seem to be a pattern at all."

"Here," Dan explained, clicking on the next page. "There's no pattern in each separate category. But, when you take all categories…oils, watercolours, icons, porcelain, only one set of initials, appears more than twice in each one."

Anna's eyes scanned the screen. "JH."

Dan nodded, pleased at how quickly she found it.

The realization dawned on her and Anna's eyes widened. "Jan Holstrom."

"That was my first thought too."

"But if it is…or _was_ Jan Holstrom buying all these pricey antiques at this auction in St. Petersburg, what exactly does it mean?"

"Take a look at the date," Dan went on. "The auction took place almost six weeks ago. That's a couple of weeks before Alex's kidnapping. Last minute fine art shopping to impress an upcoming visitor?"

Anna exhaled, rubbing her temple. "You really think so? God, it's such a long shot, Dan."

"If the buyer _was_ Jan, with Grigori's help, we might be able to track where the shipments went," he suggested.

Anna nodded and this time he saw a hint of hope in her eyes.

He watched as she picked up the phone, looking at her in amazement. "I didn't mean at this very moment!"

Anna narrowed her brows. "Why not? We don't have time to…"

With the push of a button, Dan disconnected the call before it had a change to go though. "Anna, it's one in the morning! You don't call men like Grigori Antonov at one in the morning!"

"We'll need more than he's given us," she protested. "If what you're suggesting is true."

Dan gently pushed her away from the phone. "What he gave us was huge, Anna. You do realize that, don't you?"

She frowned. "Yes, I know. It was an underground auction that was attended by the nation's top mobsters; an unofficial selling of stolen goods. It's why Grigori gave it to us, because he knew there's a good chance Faison would've been there, whether or not he used an alias."

Dan stared at her, noticing the dark circles under her eyes in the light of the room.

Her hand moved to her forehead again, and Dan caught her eyes avoiding the light of the computer screen.

"Sean's asleep and I think you should get some rest too, Anna," he told her, not caring whether she caught the concern in his voice or not. It was one of the reasons he came to see her. Thinking that the first hint of a lead might finally allow her a good night's sleep. "We'll call him first thing in the morning."

"Alex might not have until morning," Anna replied, while shutting down the lap top. As she did, her purse fell off the drawer with a clang.

Dan bent down to pick it up, surprised at its weight. "It's true then, women do carry around bricks."

Anna was about to take it from his hand, but she was too slow.

"What's this?" he asked in shock, pulling out an all-too familiar object.

Anna bit her lips, and Dan saw her defences rise along with the red in her cheeks.

"It's none of your business."

He pulled out the Glock semi-automatic handgun.

"You're not authorized to carry a firearm here," he said softly. "None of us are. Why the hell do you have this?"

Anna said nothing.

"Does Sean know?" he asked, dreading the answer.

"No."

She was lying. At one time it would've thrilled him to know he knew Anna well enough to tell the difference, now it only saddened him to know she still didn't trust him enough to tell him the truth. No matter what he did, Sean and Anna would always keep him outside their circle of trust.

"I thought we were here to try and free your sister," he mumbled, a sense of defeat rising in his throat. "Not kill Cesar Faison."

He wondered whether she would tell him the truth to the other question that plagued him. "How do you really know Grigori Antonov?" he asked her.

"I see your visit is turning into an interrogation," she answered.

"I've spent years working undercover in Russia," he answered. "And in that time I've only met a handful of men that still give me nightmares today. Antonov is one of them. Did you know he once gunned down a random college student at a bus stop just to prove that he wasn't to be messed with? Years back he was DVX, now he's working for whoever can pay the highest fees."

Anna sat down on the hotel bed that was covered with files and papers. "I told you he's one of Sean's old contacts. I thought we explained that to you."

Even now, tired and drained and defensive, she was strikingly beautiful. And again, she was lying.

In spite of it all, in spite of the anger and disappointment, all he wanted to do was take her in his arms. Her quiet, unrelenting strength always made him want to protect her. To shield her from the chaos that kept tumbling into her life. Tonight Dan hated himself for it, because he knew she was wrong.

He leaned against the wall and sighed. He was accustomed to long hours and hard work, and even so, the exhaustion of it all was starting to affect him too. "I suppose a little honesty would've been asking too much?"

"Honesty?" she asked, straightening her spine. "Are you sure you can handle the truth, Dan? What if I told you I knew Antonov from my days as a double agent in the DVX?"

A sarcastic look of challenge lined Anna's brows and it irritated him.

"Don't be absurd," he replied, with a frown. She reminded him of a child, spouting nonsense, saying she'd been a double agent, just to gauge his reaction. Even more stinging was the realization that she still wouldn't open up to him. That, after everything they'd been through, the impenetrable walls still wouldn't come down.

"I'm sorry I don't fit the image you have of me," she mumbled.

This time he couldn't discern whether it was disappointment or weariness he heard in her voice. "Last week you hit a handcuffed man. This week you're obtaining illegal firearms…I feel like I'm watching a train wreck about to happen."

He wished she would say something. Anything. Something that would acknowledge that he was right.

Instead, she sat down on the bed, in silence.

"As an officer of Interpol, you take an oath to uphold the law. You can't throw that out the window whenever it suits your needs," he said softly. "Lately I feel like I'm betraying everything I believe in to reach our goal."

"It's not a goal, Dan. It's my sister."

"I thought I knew you, Anna," he managed. He remembered their early months together. When he first watched her struggle to balance a difficult pregnancy with a new job. Watched as the details of her life began to trickle out, not by her own admissions, but from the gossip of others. There was an ex-husband in trouble with the law. A headstrong daughter who was HIV positive, whose father had died a violent death.

Through it all Anna had held her head high, with a quiet, unflappable strength that made him fall in love with her, in spite of himself.

"I can't do this anymore, Anna," he said softly. It was the truth. He couldn't.

"I've told you before that you didn't have to do this, Dan," she answered. There was no hint of anger in her eyes. "But now…now Alex is running out of time. We really need all the help we can get at this stage."

Again he wanted to take her in his arms. He avoided her gaze, knowing he wouldn't be able to leave if he looked into her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Anna."

Without looking back he walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow_

_-_

"They're here," the voice announced in Russian, through the security channel intercom.

Cesar Faison glanced into the mirror, straightening his tie at the same time. Strands of hair hung down the left side of his face and he fixed that too, pulling it all back into a neat, tidy ponytail.

"Sir?"

"Let them in."

Cesar frowned. In mere moments Charlotte Devane would stand in this room next to him.

'What if she proves Jan right?' he thought glumly. His assistant had since recovered from his accident and had not wavered once in his accusations that it was Alexandra who was here at Alexei Estate, not her sister.

At the same time, Faison had ignored Anna, leaving her locked in the room he'd first brought her to. He knew that he couldn't see her and not give in to the truth he wanted to believe.

He wanted her so much. So much that the mere thought that it was all a lie made him ball his hands into furious fists again.

"I won't believe it was all a lie. I can't."

"Well, good afternoon, Mr. Faison," a woman's voice rang through the room with a crisp English accent.

Faison spun around to take a look at its owner. "Ms. Devane, it's good to see you here. Welcome to Alexei Estate." She had aged considerable since he'd last seen her a few years ago. The hair on her head was completely white now and the delicate lines that had only begun to tease her beautiful face now etched it deeply.

Yet her glance was as alert and curious as it had been then.

"I suppose I should thank you," she said, her thin lips moving into a smile. "Being the benefactor of my unexpected release."

"I suppose."

Her smile deepened. "It was a long, bumpy drive to get here. I would love some tea."

Faison chuckled. "Yes, of course."

Charlotte sat down on his divan and as she did, Faison noticed that one of her hands trembled uncontrollably as she adjusted her skirt.

'Prison after-effects,' he thought with a frown. For him, death was a preferable alternative.

"What is it you want in exchange for my freedom, Cesar?" Charlotte demanded.

Faison smiled. "You don't waste time."

Charlotte's smile was gone, her eyes aware of everything. "I want to know how high a price it is."

Faison poured some Earl Grey into a porcelain cup and handed it to her. "It's the best deal you've ever made."

Her lips set into a thin line and Cesar watched her cross her legs. "I didn't make a deal. I was released and shipped here without so much as a word."

"How well do you know your daughter, Charlotte?"

Charlotte looked taken aback by the question. "My daughter? I don't understand…"

"Alexandra," he said softly. "You have a daughter named Alexandra, don't you?"

A bitter chuckle flew from her mouth. "Alex is dead to me," she told him with contempt. "She is not my biological child and I'm grateful for that."

"But you can tell her apart from her sister?"

"What?" Charlotte asked, puzzled. "Why would…"

"Answer my question," Faison cut her off. He wanted this over with. Wanted to have Charlotte tell him that Jan was crazy. That of course it was Anna upstairs. And whatever it would take to make things up to her, Faison would do it. He just wanted her back in his arms. Desperately.

"Of course I can tell them apart," Charlotte shot back. "I've raised Alexandra since she was a baby."

"But you also know Anna?"

"I don't have to know Anna. I know Alex."

"Does she have any scars? Anything that would distinguish her from her sister?"

"Why are you asking me this?" Charlotte insisted, as she stood up with obvious difficulty. Arthritis, Faison suspected. An ailment undoubtedly aggravated by a cold Welsh prison cell.

"I brought Anna here to be with me…"

Charlotte's eyes widened in sudden understanding. "And you're not sure that…she's Anna? Is that it?"

"I need to _be _sure," he corrected her.

"That's it?" she asked in disbelief. "You need me to distinguish one twin from another? That's why you helped arrange for my release? That's why you brought me here?"

"You're the only who can."

"You want nothing else from me?"

"Nothing else."

Too stunned to say anything: Charlotte laughed. It was a loud and utterly unfeminine sound and it poured from her throat. "Well, then," she set down her teacup after she regained her composure. "Let me see her, Cesar."

_Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Sean Donely rubbed the sleep from his eyes, trying to focus on Dan O'Toole's silhouette. His sleepy mind tried to comprehend why Dan was making so much noise during what was surely the middle of the night.

"What the hell are you doing?" he mumbled.

"Leaving," was the garbled answer.

Sean flipped on the bedside lamp, cursing when the bulb flickered and died seconds later. It forced him to stand up and turn on the room's ceiling light.

"You're what?" he demanded, wondering if he heard right.

"I can't do this anymore," O'Toole replied, tossing two shirts into his carry-on bag.

"You can't _what_?" Sean repeated, the sleepiness gone now.

O'Toole stopped his packing long enough to face him, adjusting his glasses in the sudden brightness of the hotel room. "Did you know that Anna's armed?"

Sean squinted in the light. "So?"

"She's here to kill Faison."

Sean sat down on the bed, after finding a pyjama shirt to put on. "Good," he told him with a frown. "Faison needs to die."

Dan O'Toole's pensive face looked at him with weary disappointment. "Does nothing shock you where she's concerned? Anna can do no wrong in your eyes?"

"What the hell does this have to do with anything?" Sean demanded, furrowing his brows in irritation. "You find out Anna's carrying an unregistered gun and you decide to catch the next plane out?"

"Every day we dig ourselves a hole that's a little deeper, Sean," O'Toole shot back angrily. "We meet with criminals, we bend the rules a little here, break a couple of laws there…and through it all I see Anna self-destruct a little more with each passing day."

Sean eyed him in disbelief. "What are you getting at?"

"I can't do it anymore, Sean. I've reached the end of my rope," O'Toole said quietly, zipping up his carry-on. "I can't keep throwing every principle I believe in out the window in order to find Alex."

"We screwed up that night on the bridge!" Sean reminded him. "We lost Alex Marick, because _we _screwed up! Don't you dare tell me now you can't handle doing everything we can to get her back! Maybe you want to tell Dimitri Marick you've given up on his wife?"

An unyielding expression draped O'Toole's face. "I won't break every law in the book to get her back. I can't."

"So you're calling it quits?" Sean said, disgusted at the thought. "After having come this far."

"I think we might have a lead," he said softly. "I gave it to, Anna and I have a good feeling about it."

Sean stood up next to O'Toole trying to read the Irishman's eyes. "Did she say something to you?"

O'Toole shook his head, "Not what you think."

"I don't know what to think!"

"I care for Anna, and I won't stick around and witness her committing an action that she's likely to regret for the rest of her life. Maybe if you truly cared for her you'd stop…"

Sean seethed. "I'd _what_? I'd stop her from making her own decisions? She's a grown woman for god's sake! I'm not going to tell her what she can and can't do. And if you knew the full extent of what Cesar Faison has done to her, maybe you wouldn't blame her for wanting to kill the bastard!"

"Anna's been under a lot of pressure. She's not thinking rationally."

"Oh, but what you're doing, is rational," Sean spat out. "Leaving us just when we need you most. Now that Alex is out of time."

"I'm sorry, Sean," Dan O'Toole picked up the black carry-on case and moved towards the door. "Please look out for Anna."

Sean said nothing. No thank you for all his unsolicited help. God knows Dan O'Toole had gone far above and beyond what he had to do, as Anna's co-worker. Even with his last-minute bail out. Sean owed him at least a thank you, but his anger wouldn't allow it.

He would even concede, if not aloud, that Dan O'Toole was right. He was worried about Anna too. She was so exhausted these days he often wondered whether she was capable of coherent thought, much less of chasing Cesar Faison across Russia. He'd grant O'Toole that much, but, like others before him, Sean knew that Dan underestimated both her resilience and her determination. Anna wasn't exactly as fragile as she looked at times.

"Goodbye, Dan," he mumbled bitterly. It was all he could muster as he watched the Irishman leave the room. "You picked a hell of a time to bail out."

He glanced at his digital watch, frowning when he saw the numbers.

The day was only a couple of hours old and already it was going downhill fast.

_Alexei Estate, Russia_

_-_

The opening of the door snapped Alex out of her daze and forced her eyes to turn in its direction.

Cesar entered first, followed by someone else.

A woman.

'Oh god,' Alex hugged herself on the floor where she was sitting. 'It's not possible…Mum can't be here…'

She snapped her eyes shut, willing the image to disappear.

She was dreaming again. Hallucinating.

She was losing her mind. It was finally happening.

"Oh my…" the woman exclaimed.

The voice sounded so real. So close.

Alex opened her eyes, only to find that the image of her mother hadn't disappeared. Instead it hovered over her now. Unbearably close.

"Look who it is," the voice exclaimed, and Alex lifted her head to look at her.

"I spent all these futile years, trying to turn you into the kind of woman I wanted for my organization. Trying to turn you into your sister." The voice spat out the words with a mixture of contempt and pity.

Alex was shaking.

From the corner of her eye, she caught Cesar Faison staring at them both.

"Isn't it ironic, Sasha?" Charlotte hissed. "Now when I no longer give a damn, _now_ you go around pretending that you're Anna."

_Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Anna sighed as her hand instinctively moved to her temple again.

Maybe if Dan O'Toole's gentle closing of her door hadn't reverberated in her skull like a steel drum, she would have followed him. Maybe if its ensuing pain didn't make her feel like throwing up she would have run after him and told him that he was right and that she'd get rid of the damn gun if it meant he'd stay.

Instead she sank down onto the bed, knowing if she didn't chase him down now he wouldn't likely come back.

She closed her eyes and winced. Her earlier headache was escalating into a migraine. Or into whatever it was when it suddenly felt bad enough that keeping her eyes open became a challenge.

It meant it was time to stop fighting it, let it run its course and hopefully by tomorrow it would relent. That fact alone was enough to frustrate her to tears.

Anna hated her body's way of rebelling against the strains she placed on it, ever since the tanker explosion.

She'd gone through her share of turmoil before the explosion and had always recovered, and emerged stronger rather than weaker for it.

But the explosion was different. It changed everything.

'I lost everything,' she thought angrily. 'My memory. My little girl. Worst of all, I lost Robert.'

"I lost my strength," she realized.

Cesar Faison had succeeded in doing the one thing she'd sworn he never could. He had weakened her. Emotionally. Physically.

"I swear," she whispered. "If you hurt Alex, you're going to die a painful death, Cesar."

Anna started unbuttoning her blouse. Headache or not, Dan was right. Calling Antonov in the middle of the might was pushing her luck. To top it off, she shuddered at the thought of telling Dimitri they had lost a member of their team tonight. It was yet another screw up he would blame her for.

Anna undid the bronze clasp that held her long hair in a neat bun, letting it fall over her shoulders just as she heard a knock on the door.

Anna jumped to open it. "Dan! God, I'm sorry…listen I…"

The tall, slim figure in the hallway made her stop in mid-sentence. It wasn't Dan O'Toole.

"Hello, Anna."

Anna slumped her shoulders with a sigh of utter resignation. "Hello, Sandrine."


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter 44**

_Moscow, Russia_

_-_

"May I come in?"

Anna didn't budge from the doorway. "How did you find us?"

"Please. Not out here in the hallway," Sandrine Mutanga repeated. "May I come in?"

Anna sighed, stepping aside.

Sandrine still wore a bandage on the side of her head even though the swelling had gone down to a third of its original size. At the same time, the bruising had darkened and spread across half her face. Anna wondered how colourful it would be were it not for Sandrine's dark skin.

She didn't doubt that it would have matched the colour of the stylish, purple pantsuit that Sandrine wore.

"Why did you leave Paris without telling me?"

"I don't think we owe you any explanations," Anna replied.

"I think you do!" Sandrine shot back, her bruised face flushing with anger. "I was attacked and hurt, and then, as if that was not bad enough, you cut me off. Like a traitor."

"You were hurt, Sandrine, and in no shape to go anywhere, we were only protecting you, by not telling you where…" Anna tried.

"Bullshit," Sandrine cut her off.

It was the first time Anna had seen her livid. It made her appear tougher than Anna would have thought possible.

"How are you, anyway?" Anna prompted. "Shouldn't you be in a hospital, or at least in bed resting?"

"This isn't just about your sister," Sandrine pointed out, ignoring her question. "It's about Roger. It is about finding my partner and the man that I love."

"Right…" Anna replied, studying Sandrine's reactions as much as the increasing pounding in her skull allowed. If she was acting, Sandrine was very good. The hurt, the anger and the indignation at having been shunned were written all over her face with perfection.

Maybe Sean was wrong about her.

Anna trusted his instincts implicitly, yet that didn't mean they were never wrong. There was no concrete reason to suspect she had anything to do with Jan Holstrom's escape. Her helping just plain didn't make any sense.

Anna moved a hand to her stomach when she felt her nausea surge. It wouldn't be long now before the headache would make her ill.

"Sandrine, look," she acquiesced. "You're right. We need to talk about this but, it's late. Why don't you get a room here, and we'll discuss it in the morning?"

Part of her wanted to talk to Sandrine now. To ask her what exactly happened in that room with Jan Holstrom. To ask her how in the world she had found them so quickly. But Anna knew she wasn't in a state to have a cohesive conversation, never mind a professional interrogation.

Sandrine narrowed her brows. "So you can tell Sean and Dan, and take off on me again? I don't think so, Anna. We will talk about it now!"

"No," Anna shook her head firmly. "Tomorrow morning."

"I don't trust you to wait until the morning."

"Please, Sandrine."

Sandrine studied her with a mix of anger and hurt. "Do I have your word on that, Anna?"

"Yes. You have my word."

"I hope your word is worth something," Sandrine said softly. "I will knock on your door at seven tomorrow morning."

"You do that," Anna replied.

A sigh of relief escaped her lips when the young woman left her room. As soon as she did, Anna closed the curtains and shut off lights, sinking down on the bed as she pressed a palm to her forehead.

She didn't bother to change out of her clothes.

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow, Russia_

_-_

"What are you going to do with her?" Charlotte Devane asked Cesar Faison when they were back in the study. This time, instead of tea, there was a glass of sherry in her hand.

Cesar watched her with curiosity.

She was like a vulture circling its prey.

He knew that Charlotte wanted nothing more than to take her tarnished daughter with her and do with her as she saw fit.

It was a pleasure he wasn't going to give her.

"I don't know yet," he admitted. That much was the truth.

He didn't know. Part of him wanted to kill Alexandra with his own two hands. Another part could barely bring himself to hate her. Were it Anna that had betrayed him, the hurt and the anger would have been ten-fold. Instead, he was betrayed by a woman he didn't even know.

A stranger.

Now that the truth was out he felt oddly devoid of the rage that had possessed him earlier. More than angry, he was tired. Drained. Tired. And empty.

He thought back to the encounter between mother and daughter in the room upstairs, mere minutes ago. To the terror in Alexandra's eyes when she saw her mother. Faison didn't have to wait for confirmation from Charlotte it wasn't Anna. Alexandra's reaction was more revealing than any anything else could have been.

"I can help you get rid…" Charlotte started.

"No," Faison cut her off. "She is not going with you."

Charlotte's face creased in disappointment. "Are you going to kill her?"

Faison poured himself a cognac. "Does it matter to you?"

"It doesn't," she lied. "I was only curious. You can't blame me for that. I did raise her, after all."

"Tell me something, Charlotte," Faison sat down on the sofa across from her. "Why do you hate her so much?"

"What do you mean?"

"She's brilliant, Charlotte. She's a world-renowned researcher and an accomplished physician. She had a thriving practice in London before marrying one of the richest men in Europe. Most mothers would be happy. Proud even."

Charlotte's lips hardened into a thin, angry line and she set down her glass with a trembling hand. "Really? I would think that you would understand, Cesar. You of all people would know what if feels like to want something so badly. To always have that something within your reach, yet never attain it." She stared at him, her gaze as intense and focused as that of someone twenty years younger. "Imagine, having a brilliant daughter who has no interests in carrying on what you've spent a lifetime working on."

Faison took unexpected pleasure in the old woman's bitterness. It was true; misery did love company. "So, she didn't want to carry on her mother's business, so what?" He shrugged his shoulders. "You could have done worse."

Charlotte strained towards him, annoyed at the interruption. "And then… imagine finding out that her twin sister is everything that I ever wanted Alex to be. As though someone wants to rub it in your face every day that you stole the wrong girl!"

Faison said nothing, taking another sip of his cognac. He didn't resist the sarcasm that threatened to drip from his lips. "Poor you. Stealing the wrong girl."

"Surely, you can understand…" Charlotte tried.

Faison set down his glass and glanced at his Girard-Perregaux watch. He stifled a yawn. "It's time," he told her. "Your driver will be waiting for you at the gate."

"But it's late," Charlotte protested, "I'm exhausted!"

Faison shrugged with indifference. "The car has lights and comfortable leather seats you can sleep on." He managed a smile, "Your impending freedom should exhilarate you enough to survive the trip to Moscow."

Charlotte stood up with difficulty. She would soon need a cane to walk with if she wanted to retain her mobility. "May I…may I see her once more before I leave?"

"No," Faison paused. "Even I'm not that sadistic."

Charlotte's expression changed to anger. "Are you just going to let her go?"

Faison led her out of the room, "She betrayed me and played me for a fool. Of course she will be punished. But I'm the one who will choose the means. Not you."

"Cesar, I'm asking you…"

Faison's hand rested on her slightly hunched back, urging it along the wood-panelled corridor. "Good-bye, Charlotte."

_Moscow, Russia_

_-_

This time it was the sound of someone pounding on his door that woke him up.

Sean reached to turn on his bedside lamp, forgetting that the bulb died only a few hours ago. He glanced at the clock radio on the night table. Red numbers flashed 6:01am

Sean groaned as he got up to turn on the other light.

The pounding on the door continued. Louder.

"For god's sakes, I'm coming," he mumbled with sleepy irritation, stumbling to the door.

It was Anna who stood outside, her arm raised, about to knock again, when he flung the door open.

She wore a crisp, black pantsuit and blazer and her hair hung straight down over her shoulders. The ends were still wet and he could smell the familiar glycerine scent of the cheap hotel shampoo.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and pulled the well-worn hotel bathrobe from the closet, slipping into it wordlessly.

"Didn't we say seven?" he grumbled.

Anna leaned against the hotel desk, her glance enviably alert given the time of day. "We have a problem, Sean."

Sean ran a hand through his hair, "I know. Dan. Look, it doesn't matter, the two of us, we'll have to work harder that's…"

"No, not Dan," Anna interrupted him. "Sandrine."

Sean gave her a puzzled look. "What are you talking about?"

"Sandrine Mutanga paid me a visit last night, after Dan left."

"Sweetheart, you're joking!" He was wide awake now, staring at her in disbelief. "How the hell did she find us so fast?"

"She's WSB. She's clever, and she knew that all the leads we had were pointing in the direction of Russia."

Sean groaned, "Moscow's a long flight to make on an assumption. And even so, once she was here, how did she find the hotel? You don't suppose that ex-husband of yours let something slip?"

Anna rolled her eyes. "Sean, what does it matter how she found us? She's here. She said she's coming by my room at seven to talk…I wanted to give you fair warning."

Sean stood up and pulled a shirt from his dresser. "There's nothing to talk about. I don't want her involved anymore. I'll gladly tell her to hop on the next plane to Africa."

"We could use her help, Sean. Especially after last night." Her glance went to the empty bed in the room, reminding him of Dan's departure, something neither of them wanted to discuss.

"I don't trust her."

"You have no logical reason to suspect she had anything to do with Jan's escape. None," Anna reminded him with the steely persuasiveness he knew all too well. "Every background check we did, says she's legit. And she's so in love with her partner, there's nothing she won't do for him. It's painfully obvious. You just have to look at her bruised face."

Sean stopped himself short of rolling his eyes. "Must be some guy."

"There was a time, I would've done the same for Robert," she said softly. "I can't fault Sandrine for that."

"Then how do you explain Jan getting away?" he pressed her. She had good instincts, and if anyone could make him doubt his own it was Anna. If Anna felt that Sandrine was to be trusted, the least he would do is listen to her reasons.

He didn't get a chance to hear her answer, as another knock on the door, cut her off.

Anna looked at him. "I'll get it."

"I didn't realize I was so popular," Sean mumbled. He didn't hide his annoyance when he saw Sandrine Mutanga enter.

"Well, I see you have more than one appointment this morning, Ms. Mutanga," he quipped. " 'Sean at 6, and Anna at 7', is that your schedule?"

"I heard Anna come to see you, as I suspected she would," Sandrine replied. "I'm in the room across from you." She wore a bright orange blouse, her multiple braids tied back into a neat ponytail, emphasizing the bruise on her face.

"So you're eavesdropping on us now?" Sean asked, pleased to see her blush at the question. He caught a glimpse of Anna's angry glare, and stopped just short of adding, 'In addition to selling us out.'

"I'm here because I want to help you."

"You want to find your partner. You don't give a damn about Alex. Let's get that straight," Sean corrected her.

Her cheeks blushed a darker colour still, as the warmth of indignation rose in her throat. Sean thought she might break out into tears. "They are the same thing," she managed. "If I find my partner, you find Alex."

"What happened in that room at the Auberge?" Anna asked her, ignoring both their remarks.

Sandrine turned to face her, "I have told you everything already. Jan looked like he was badly hurt, so I undid the handcuffs. When I realized he was faking…it was too late. He overpowered me and knocked me out."

"What kind of trained agent does such a stupid thing?" Anna pressed, as though she hadn't just spent the last few minutes defending the young woman to Sean. The sudden interrogation raised the corner of Sean's lips into a smile. Alone, Anna might not have agreed with him, but she was smart enough to know that in order to get any truth out of Mutanga they had to show a united front.

"What kind of trained agent beats up a suspect in custody?" Sandrine shot back angrily. This time there _were_ tears trickling down her cheek.

Sean thought the accusation might throw Anna off but he was wrong.

"You didn't answer my question," Anna said calmly. "I'd like an answer. Now."

"I have told you the answer," Sandrine said bitterly. "I have told you. Again and again. He looked like he was badly hurt. So I undid the cuffs…"

"Without waiting for back-up?"

"It looked like he was choking, like he could not breathe. I was scared that he could die!"

Anna moved closer to the young woman, breathing down her neck. "Do you really think I would hurt an unarmed man so badly that he would need immediate medical attention?"

Sean watched with interest as Sandrine's composure slipped a little more with each passing second.

"I don't know…" Sandrine answered angrily, wiping away a tear. "I don't know, okay! I made a mistake, and it was dumb but I didn't let him get away on purpose. Why would I do that?"

"I don't know," Anna replied icily. "You tell me."

"I made a mistake," Sandrine repeated. "I made a mistake and I'm sorry! How many times do you want me to say it? Do you never make mistakes, Anna?"

"I'd like to think I wouldn't make one as stupid as that."

Sandrine glared at her. "You are so cold, Anna. I had no idea…" The tears kept tumbling down. "You have already decided what you want to believe."

"No," Anna shook her head. "I want the truth from you. That's all."

"I think," Sean interrupted, as he moved between the two women. "That you should leave us alone for a few minutes, Sandrine."

Sandrine shot him another harsh look. "So you decide whether I am a traitor or not? Whether I have passed your test?" She turned on her heels, sending her glare in Anna's direction. "Fine. You let me know when you decide, so we can get back to doing our jobs."

Sandrine stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her loud enough to shake the walls that surrounded it.

Sean cringed. "Guess this floor won't be needing a wake-up call today."

"Well," Anna sighed, "That went well." Her demeanour changed the instant Sandrine left the room. Whereas a moment ago she was a force to be reckoned with, now he saw only weariness and frustration.

Sean chuckled. "You certainly touched a nerve with Ms. Mutanga."

"So what do you think?" Anna asked him, leaning against his desk once more. "Is she telling the truth?"

"I didn't think so before you started questioning her, but now I have my doubts. Maybe I was wrong. If she is lying, she's one of the best liars I've ever met."

"She's young, Sean," Anna added. "Young agents make mistakes. They do stupid things. And her emotional reaction was exactly what you'd expect. The embarrassment, the defensiveness…"

"The question is, do we need her?" Sean asked. "Dan mentioned something about a lead last night."

"The auction in St. Petersburg," Anna told him. "Dan thinks Jan Holstrom may have made some major purchases on behalf of Faison. That if we can track where they went, we might find Faison."

"That's great news," Sean said with a grin. "We just have to get back to Antonov and push him for a little more."

"I tried already," Anna told him, frowning. "He's left Moscow."

Sean cringed, "You called Antonov this morning?"

Anna nodded.

"What do you mean, he left Moscow?"

"I got a hold of Nadya, his mistress du jour, and after she finished a five minute tirade for waking her up, she started cursing Antonov for taking off on her without so much as a word."

"You believe her?"

"I think she was still drunk when I talked to her. So, yes. I believe her."

"That's not good news," Sean mumbled with a frown. "Getting somewhere just as our source decides to skip town."

"We could head to St. Petersburg and do our own digging," Anna suggested.

"St. Petersburg isn't around the corner," Sean reminded her, his mind racing with options as his hand ran along his three-day stubble. It reminded him that he needed a shave. "Or…" he hesitated. "I could head to St. Petersburg with Sandrine while you try and track him down in Moscow. I'd have some help and can keep an eye on her at the same time."

Anna raised her chin, pondering the idea before nodding in agreement. "Sounds good." Using her arms to give herself a push, she moved away from the desk, straightening her blazer. "I'll let you get ready, while I let Sandrine know she's back in."

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Faison saw the silhouette enter the room, from the corner of his eye.

"Yuri says he dropped off Ms. Devane at Sheremetyevo airport early this morning," Jan Holstrom told him.

"Good."

"Is there anything I can get for you, sir?"

Faison spun around to face him.

Jan Holstrom looked better. The swelling on his face had subsided and he no longer looked as though he hadn't slept in days. As usual his appearance was immaculate. He wore a pinstriped three-piece suit, perfectly complemented by a lavender coloured tie.

Jan was supposed to relax and recover from his accident. Looking at him now made Faison frown. Casual wear was obviously not an option for Holstrom.

'The tables have turned,' Faison thought with irony. 'Now I'm the one who looks like hell.'

"Sir…"

"Since when are you my butler?" he snapped.

Jan's face blushed, as it always did when he raised his voice. Faison regretted it as soon as he saw the Swede's expression.

"I owe you an apology," Faison admitted. "You were right about Anna." He chuckled bitterly. "Or I should say Alexandra. Thank you…thank you, for telling me."

Jan lowered his head. "I'm sorry, sir. I know how much you wanted a future with Anna."

'I still do,' he thought sadly. 'After everything, I still do.' How was it possible to love someone so much?

"What are you going to do now?"

"I don't know."

"What about Scorpio?"

The question took him by surprise. After everything he had all but forgotten about Robert Scorpio. What did his arrival matter now? A new realization suddenly dawned on him. Did Robert have any idea that the woman he came to rescue wasn't Anna?

"I should care about him, because Scorpio's presence means a breach in security, but between you and me, he doesn't matter anymore," Faison admitted. "I don't know if I will bother trying to get anything out of him anymore. Why prolong his death any longer? I feel as though I should take my victories where I can get them."

Faison thought he caught a hint of relief on Jan's face. Jan didn't have much of a stomach for complications, which was obvious each time they hit one.

"I think that's good idea," Jan agreed. "You should kill Scorpio now and leave Alexei Estate for the time being. Distance yourself from everything that happened."

"We will," Faison replied. "But first, before I make her pay for her deception, there are some things I need to know from Alexandra."

_Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Sandrine Mutanga banged her fist against the wall.

"_Merde_…" she cursed under her breath. 'How could I have been so stupid?'

Anna's attack had come out of nowhere, and instead of refuting her accusations; she had started crying like a teenager.

'Robert, I'm sorry…I can't believe that I didn't think things through before barging into Sean's room. You taught me better than that.'

Nothing had gone according to plan. The plan to use Anna's sympathy to guilt her into convincing Sean that he was wrong about her.

"_Don't be so hard on yourself, Sandi_…"

She could hear Robert's voice in her mind, as she did each time she felt her world collapse around her.

"I acted like a rookie…crying and hysterical."

"_So you weren't cool and collected…so what? It wouldn't be you if you were. And then Anna would definitely have seen right through you_…"

Her anger rose. "You never told me she could be so cold and calculating," she whispered aloud. "Looking at me so concerned when she comes to see me at the hospital, then pouncing on me like a tiger."

She could hear him chuckle. Could see the amusement in his blue eyes.

_"Sweetheart, you're upset because she knows you're lying. Not because she's punishing you for no reason. Anna caught on to you…it means next time you have to try harder. You can learn from her."_

"I don't want to learn anything from your ex-wife!" she said with indignation. If she could imagine hearing Robert's voice, why couldn't she imagine him saying what she wanted to hear?

Because if he said what she wanted to hear, it wouldn't be Robert.

He was still chuckling.

_"Oh Sandi, I love it when you're angry. It makes you even more deliciously beautiful than you already."_

Sandrine wiped away a tear and managed a smile. He _would _say that too.

He had a way of doing that. Of pushing her buttons with his sarcasm and his unapologetic arrogance, then pulling her back in with words and glances that let her know, no matter what, she meant the world to him.

'Robert…what I wouldn't give to have you here with me now, in this room…to feel your touch, to hear your voice…'

Her heart skipped a beat when she heard a knock on the door.

"Robert…" she gasped turning around.

She opened the door slowly, knowing it couldn't be him. Yet wishing it all the same.

It was Anna who stared at her instead. "Are you going to let me in?"

Sandrine scowled. "That depends on what you are going to tell me."

"You're in," Anna told her matter-of- factly. "Welcome back."

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Cesar Faison walked along the white corral fence staring at the horses inside.

No wonder she had been so determined to make amends with the horse that had thrown her off. Anna might not have cared, would probably even have stayed away, but for Alexandra Marick, horses were more than just a hobby. They were a passion.

Faison wanted to go back inside to see her but the anger still raged beneath his skin, so instead he had forced himself to go out for a walk.

'To calm myself,' he thought. How foolish had he been to think that a stroll on the grounds might stop the endless thoughts racing through his mind.

Faison walked over to the stables, catching a glimpse of his ironsmith forging a new horseshoe. Everything at Alexei Estate was done with the intent of honouring the age-old tsarist traditions. It was the way Faison had wanted it. He wanted it to remain a timeless piece of history where he could reside with the woman he loved for the rest of his life. He adored Alexei Estate more than the dozen or so other homes he owned throughout the world.

Except Alexandra wasn't that woman.

"All this time, I was with a stranger."

He thought of the many times he had kissed her. Held her. Watched her.

"I thought I was in heaven and it was all a lie."

Faison walked into the stables, cringing when he heard ironsmith clanging against a hot iron. Moulding it. Shaping it.

At first Faison thought it was a horseshoe, but on closer inspection he saw that he was wrong. It was smaller and looked like a symbol of sorts.

"What is it?" Faison asked the man in Russian.

The old man stopped what he was doing, taking his visor off, surprised at the unexpected visit. "We are branding two new horses tomorrow," he smiled a broad smile in spite of two missing front teeth. "So, we can tell them apart from the losers when we race them!"

Faison didn't smile at the joke. He knew so little about the day-to-day operations of the estate it was embarrassing. He was intricately familiar with all the art that hung inside its walls and with every inch of its security features, yet when it came to the rest, he stood in the dark. Faison financed the horses and their maintenance and that was the extent of his involvement. It was a part of the estate that went on without or without his presence.

At Faison's silence, the man resumed his task. Faison watched as he expertly shaped the Alexei Estate symbol onto the tip of the iron rod.

Seeing the fire forge the iron gave him an unexpected and malicious idea.

Faison shuddered at the thought, and left the stable in silence, his frown deepening.

_Later_

_-_

When he entered her bedroom, he saw that she was still on the floor. Her knees were pulled up to her chest and her face was a tear-stained mess.

Faison kneeled down next to her, brushing a long, oily strand of hair from her face.

"Well, Alexandra. I see that coming face to face with your mother wasn't very pleasant for you."

Faison sighed, leaning against the wall next to her, taking a seat on the floor. "If you hadn't spent the last few weeks lying to me, I might have felt some sympathy for you, but as it stands I would probably call it poetic justice, wouldn't you agree? Nonetheless, it has to hurt to have your own mother sell you out in front of your eyes."

Alexandra said nothing and when Faison glanced at her fingers, he noticed the nails were bitten raw into the flesh.

"It's sad, isn't it? To be rejected by those we love."

Faison exhaled. He was so tired.

"It looks like we might have something in common, Alexandra. We have a mutual inability to make the people we love, love us in return."

"I don't love her," Alex corrected him softly.

Eyes that only hinted at the intelligence beneath them, replaced what was a vacant stare a moment ago.

Faison looked into them as though seeing them for the first time. Jan was right. They weren't Anna's eyes. It was all so obvious now.

_How could he have been so blind?_

Judging merely from the tidbits of information he had read about Anna's sister, it was fair to say that Alexandra Marick was brilliant. A pioneer in her field. A genius among mankind.

A genius now huddling on the floor, biting her nails into oblivion. Faison snickered. It was fitting, he thought, remembering the earlier nightmares she had. Proof that all genius was tinged with madness.

"That's what you would tell yourself isn't it, Alexandra?" He shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever lets you sleep at night." He turned towards her. "Not that I care about the bizarre relationship between you and your mother. I've come to see you because I have some questions of my own."

"What are you going to do with me?" Alex asked him, her voice still barely louder than a whisper. He had to strain to hear her.

"My questions first," he snapped. "I want to know why? Why the charade? Why wasn't it Anna who met me that night on the bridge? Did she and Sean decide to use you as bait to trap me?"

"No. That's not what happened."

"Then why?" he pressed, suddenly impatient. "Why you?"

"Anna wasn't well," Alex said slowly. "She had been under a lot of stress for a long time. Because of Robin and then Leah's illness." She paused, meeting his stare. "Because of you."

"I don't understand…"

"Anna has recurring, often severe, headaches from the explosion. That night at the hospital, she collapsed. David was there with here and he sedated her."

A look of comprehension draped Faison's face. "So Anna never received my message..."

"No," Alex confirmed. "I did. I was staying with her at the time, so I signed for her mail. Sean was there when I got the note."

"So you decided to step in for her at the Pont D'Arcole," Faison finished for her. "How noble of you."

"Leah's health was deteriorating," Alex said angrily. "I didn't know what else to do. Anna had no idea."

"She had to have been unaware, because if Anna knew… she would never have let you do what you did. Anna would never let someone else fight her battles for her." Faison managed a smile. "And by admitting her ignorance to me, you're still protecting her now. You're the older twin, aren't you?"

"No," Alex said, wiping away another tear from her tear-stained face. "I'm not. Anna is."

Faison leaned back and ran a hand across his face. Everything made sense now. "So Sean agreed to substitute you for Anna, thinking he could keep you safe with an AT tracking chip." He chuckled. "Donely's such a fool. Even now, so many years later, he's still underestimating me."

"Why can't you let her go?"

"What?"

"If you really love Anna so much," Alex asked. "Why won't you let her live her life in peace? Why can't you see that she doesn't want you?"

Faison's skin bristled at the question. "Because…" he seethed. "Because you don't know that! Because you don't know that she won't want me. I never gave her the chance! I stayed away from her all these years because of his deal…" He stopped himself.

"You're insane if you think that after all this Anna would want anything to do with you." Alex stared at him bitterly. "And what about me? What are you going to do with me?"

Faison got up, straightening his jacket. "You're Anna's twin. I can't very well kill you, can I? Anna would never forgive me. Although I admit, the initial urge to do so was very strong."

"Please let me go," she pleaded.

"I will." Faison nodded. "Because you mean nothing to me. But not yet, Alexandra." He paused, meeting her eyes a final time. "For weeks you played me for a fool. You let me love you and for that you're going to pay a heavy price."


	45. Chapter 45

**_Chapter 45_**

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow, Russia_

_-_

"_Did you really think I would lie for you?"_

_"You watched me grow up, Mum."_

_"You were another woman's child. Not mine. Never mine."_

_"You braided my hair, Mum. You put plasters on my knees when I scraped them. You walked with me on my first day of school. You helped me button up my coat when it was cold outside…"_

_"I raised you because I needed a successor, Sasha. Not a daughter. Never a daughter. Those little tokens of affection were nothing more than a necessary evil."_

_Alex shook her head, sobbing. "No, I don't believe you…I don't believe that it meant nothing to you. All those years."_

_"I took you because I needed you, Sasha." Her mother's lips were a cold, thin line and her eyes didn't betray the slightest emotion._

_"You're angry because I helped put you into prison. And this is how you're punishing me."_

_Charlotte Devane heaved a heavy sigh of disappointment. "Are you really that blind?"_

_"I'm sorry, Mum…I'm so sorry…please tell him you were lying. Please tell him I'm Anna…please…"She couldn't stop. "I'm your only daughter…"_

_The slap came hard across her face, stinging her._

_"No," Charlotte corrected her. " No daughter of mine_ _would have put her own mother in jail."_

_Alex moved a hand to her burning cheek. "I didn't mean to, Mum…I'm sorry."_

_"It's too late for sorry."_

_"No."_

_"Too late."_

"No…"

Alex sat up before she knew she was awake, her heart pounding.

It took her several long seconds to realize where she was. On the four-poster bed. In the bedroom. Locked inside.

Alex propped two pillows against the headboard, sinking back into them to give her heart a chance to stop racing.

"Just another stupid dream…" she whispered. "Thousands of overactive neurons conjuring up images that mean nothing. Meaningless," she told herself, hoping it would lessen the panic she felt.

How long had it been since Faison had come to see her? A day? Maybe it was less, or maybe it was more.

She glanced out the window and saw that it would bright outside. A sunny day with crystal, clear blue skies.

She forced herself from the bed, pushing a strand of hair behind her ears.

Her eyes moved to the bathroom door.

How long had it been since she showered? Two days? More?

She moved towards it, leaving her nightgown in a heap on the floor, longing for warm, clean water to run down her body. Longing for the image of Charlotte to erase itself from her mind.

Once inside the bathroom, she turned on the showerhead, not waiting for the water to warm up before stepping inside.

Alex shivered as the ice-cold stream of water hit her skin, stinging it like an army of frozen needles.

_St. Petersburg, Russia_

_-_

"I don't understand," Sandrine pointed out for the second time since leaving the airport. "What are we doing here? Why not wait until you found Antonov until coming here?"

They were seated in a noisy, fast food restaurant at the train station. Sean bit into a slice of pizza that tasted like a piece of cardboard.

"Once Anna gets a hold of Antonov, she'll get him to tell us who shipped out the goods from that auction. By then we'll need to be here to get the ball rolling. It could be more than one shipping company. We'll need to bribe them."

Sandrine fiddled with the straw on her soft drink container. "So, Dan should be here. Dan and Dimitri. Dan speaks Russian and Dimitri is the one with the money."

Sean set down his pizza. "Dan left and Anna might need Dimitri in Moscow."

"Dan left to go where?"

"He left," Sean repeated, his irritation rising. "_Il est parti."_

"I understood you!" Sandrine shot back with indignation. "I know you don't like me. But I'm not an idiot."

"I never said I didn't like you." Sean smiled sweetly. "I don't trust you. There's a difference."

Sandrine gave him a scowl in return. "Why did Dan leave? And what do we do until we hear from Anna?"

Sean took another bite of his pizza, his eyes glued to her face. "We wait."

_Sugar Nightclub, Moscow_

_A day later_

_-_

Anna moved across the busy dance floor, stealing a glance at the Raymond Weil watch that hung loosely on her wrist.

It was only 11 o'clock and already the club was crowded. In a couple of hours it would be uncomfortably full. Full of sweaty dancers clad in skin-tight designer clothes, pushing into each other for lack of breathing room.

Anna squinted. Cigarette smoke clouded the air, making it hard to see beyond the pulsing bodies that surrounded her.

She bumped into a couple on the dance floor. Their limbs were entwined while they gyrated up and down to the techno beat that drowned out all other noise in the room. It was loud enough to make the floor shake, and mixed with the haze, the bodies and the room seemed to move to the beat in unison.

Anna didn't bother with an apology.

She was sure the dancing couple didn't notice her. Taking a closer look she saw that the woman's tongue was inside the man's ear. It moved with her body. Throbbing and flickering wildly around the man's ear lobe.

In spite of the sleek, black dress she wore, Anna felt conspicuously out of place next to the thin, drug-fuelled bodies around her. She caught several glances that lingered longer than they should have, confirming her outsider status.

She wondered whether anyone would notice if she dropped dead on the dance floor and the thought suddenly made her wish she wasn't here alone.

'Get a grip,' she reminded herself. 'You've been in worse spots than this.'

Anna straightened her spine as she inched her way to the bar, clasping her purse, grateful that her handgun was tucked inside. She wished it were in a holster on her body instead. In a place where reaching for it would take one second rather than several. But her tight dress wouldn't allow for that.

A man's hand reached for hers as soon as she sat down on a silver chrome barstool.

It belonged to the man seated on the stool next to her. He had a round, bloated face and small, bloodshot eyes that squinted out underneath, struggling to focus in the smoke-filled haze.

He offered her a cigarette and said something in Russian that she didn't understand. Anna subtly moved his hand off hers, straining to catch the bartender's eye.

"Excuse me…"

The bartender couldn't hear her, which was no surprise. Anna couldn't hear the words coming out of her mouth either.

"You are American," the man next to her pointed out, moving his hand back over hers.

Anna nodded, resisting the urge to push his hand off hers. "Yes."

"Ivan!" the man yelled, turning the bartender's attention away from three young women. He said something in Russian that Anna assumed would result in a drink for her.

Seconds later her assumption proved right as the bartender set down a martini in front of her.

The Russian man smiled. "I like America." He clinked his glass of scotch against hers. "Beautiful women."

"Wait…" Anna yelled at the bartender, just as he turned his back to her. Three more women sat down at the other end, none of whom looked older than eighteen.

The Russian man laughed. "You want more already?"

"No," Anna cringed. "I need to talk to him."

"Ivan!" the man yelled a second time, bringing the bartender back to them. He scowled at them both, flexing arms that were easily the size of her thighs.

"Nadya," Anna told him. "I'm here to see Nadya."

"I don't know Nadya," the bartender told her, making no efforts to raise his voice above the din of music.

"Grigori's Nadya!" Anna told him. "Tell her Anna is here to see her and that it's important."

The bartender furrowed his brows, making the steel piercings that cut through them bob up and down. Were he not a mass of pure muscle he would have looked comical rather than menacing. He set down a stainless steel mixer on the chrome counter top and left without another word.

When he came back it was with two suit-clad men, flanking him on each side.

"Who are you?" one of the men asked in English. His features were more Asian than Slavic.

"I'm here to see Nadya."

"Who are you?" he repeated.

Anna bit her lip. "My name is Anna. I'm a friend of Grigori's."

"Come," the second man told her, grabbing her arm.

"Hey…" the man sitting at the bar protested, pointing to her untouched martini. "You come back yes?"

Anna doubted he would notice if she didn't.

The two men escorted her away from the bar and dance floor and through an unmarked door.

Behind it was a narrow hallway dividing more rooms, small cubicles separated only by lush velvet curtains.

Anna caught a glimpse inside one of them, spotting more men in suits, surrounded by beautiful women. Cigar smoke wafted from the rooms and she spotted lines of white powder on black, granite tables.

"What do you want?" a voice met her in the hallway. "I told you he is not here."

It was the voice of a teenager.

A young woman blocked her way in the hall. She was so small that Robin's petite frame would have dwarfed her. Precariously balanced on impossibly high heels, she wore a red, leather skirt that barely covered her tiny thighs. Her lips were thick and pouty and smothered in a luscious lipstick the colour of blood.

Anna doubted she was older than eighteen.

"Are you Nadya?" she asked.

The woman gave her an uninterested look. "Maybe."

"I need to see Grigori."

"I told you he is not here, stupid. I told you that on the phone."

It was Nadya. And she spoke an affected Valley-girl English, like a teenager on an American prime time show.

"I need to see him," Anna repeated, taking a deep breath. "He has something I want and I can make it worth his while."

"So? Everybody wants something from Grigori," the woman-child observed with a vaguely bored expression. "What makes you any different?"

"He'll be very upset to know that I tried to make a deal with him and he wasn't so much as told about it."

Nadya yawned and when her eyes re-opened Anna noticed how glazed they were. "Go away."

Anna seethed. Was it possible that her sister's life could hinge on the whims of a stoned, petulant teenager?

"Listen, sweetheart," Anna moved towards her, tired of the game. "I don't have time for this. If Grigori doesn't get back to me in 24 hours, my offer is gone, do you understand that?"

Anna was about to move closer to Nadya still when she suddenly felt a man's arm whip out from behind her. One of the two men who escorted her into the back decided she was a threat to Grigori's mistress.

In a reflex action, Anna grabbed the man's arm and locked its elbow, making him sink to his knees in pain. As a result the second man's elbow pummelled into her ribs sending Anna crashing into the wall behind her.

The pain of the unanticipated assault made Anna release the first man's arm.

Although it was over before it began, the second man's blow knocked the wind out of her and reminded her of the bruises she still had from her fight with Jan Holstrom.

The first man, livid now, was about to strike her again, when the second one motioned him to back off with a wave of his hand.

Nadya smiled, amused by the unexpected entertainment. She lit a cigarette. "Ilya doesn't like people who come too close to me," she explained to Anna, exhaling a cloud of blue smoke into the air.

Anna winced as she gingerly pushed herself away from the wall. "Yeah…I can see that."

As a result of the commotion, the curtain opened from one of the private rooms, a man's dark-haired head peaking out from behind.

Grigori Antonov's head.

"Well..." Anna looked at Nadya. "I thought you said he was out of town."

"What's going on here?" Antonov demanded.

Nadya's smile faded and Anna watched as she started an explanation in rapid fire Russian that Antonov was only half listening to.

He interrupted her halfway through, and waved her away with a flick of his wrist.

Nadya glared at Anna before turning on her heels, their click-clock sound resonating through the corridor. The two bodyguards didn't budge.

"What are you doing here, Anna?" Antonov asked. "I gave you what you asked for. I have nothing else." He spoke perfect English, his accent American.

"I need more."

Antonov frowned and glanced at the two bodyguards, motioning Anna to step inside the curtained room. The bodyguards didn't follow.

Inside were two other men dressed in expensive suits, seated on plush, velour covered divans.

A black, rectangular table in the middle held three bottles of Stolichnaya, Cuban cigars and the same, neat white lines of cocaine atop a glass bar, she'd seen in one of the other rooms. There was also a large platter of _zakuskas_. Bite size blintzes, smoked fish, caviar, black bread and pickles.

Antonov said something in Russian, and Anna watched as the two men left the room.

When they were gone Antonov poured her a shot glass full of vodka.

Anna accepted it and drank it in one gulp, meeting Antonov's eyes as she set down the glass.

Smiling, he refilled it for her. "I have a feeling you'll decline, but you're welcome to anything on the table, Anna."

She returned his smile. "I need information from you. Nothing else."

He was still smiling, broadly enough to show her a golden corner tooth. "What's on the table is free. Information is expensive."

"We think Faison might have been at the auction."

Antonov picked up a cigar and lit it with a match. "Good. My information helped you then."

"Someone with the initials JH purchased a variety of goods. We need to know who shipped them to their destination."

Antonov inhaled on his cigar, filling the room with its scent. "I told you I have no more information for you. Faison has eyes everywhere. The last thing I need is to be on his hit list. I have enough other things to worry about."

Anna leaned in towards him. "I'll make it worth your while."

Antonov smiled, "Anna, my dear. What you gave me last time was a token. I accepted it so as not to offend you. I helped you because I wanted to. Because I always admired your persistence." He ran his tongue along his lips. "Because even now, so many years later, you still fascinate me, Anna. There are not many women I can say that for."

Anna's face hardened as she thought of Nadya and Robin all at once. Of what Grigori's teenage mistress might look like at 35 or 40. If she lasted that long.

"$100,000. Cash." Anna replied. "That's not a token, Grigori."

His brows were raised in mild interest. "American funds?"

Anna felt her face flush. It was more than she'd planned, but if that's what it took, she'd get it. Dimitri Marick was going to come in handy after all.

"Sure."

Antonov pursed his lips. "Fine. Tomorrow, 8pm at your hotel."

"How about noon?"

Antonov smiled. Amused. "Fine, Anna. Tomorrow at noon. I'll send Ilya with the information you want."

Anna felt a weight lift from her shoulders.

Antonov picked up his shot glass and clinked it against hers. "Pleasure doing business with you, Anna. As always."

Anna raised the shot glass to her lips and downed its contents with another single gulp. This time the alcohol rushed to her head, making her unsteady as she stood up.

She clutched her purse, as Antonov held the curtain open for her.

"Where is your friend, Sean?" he asked. "I'm surprised he let you come here alone. It's not a safe place for a woman alone."

"He's waiting for your information in St. Petersburg."

"I see," Antonov replied. "Give him my regards then, Anna." He glanced in the direction of his two bodyguards. "I'll have Ilya take you to your hotel."

Anna shuddered at the thought. "No, thanks."

She made her way back into the nightclub where the dance floor now resembled a mosh pit. A wave of human bodies gyrated and undulated as though glued together and Anna felt the unbearably loud throb of music pounding into her skull. The noise, combined with nauseating odour of cigarette smoke mixed with perfume and human sweat made her quicken her pace as much as the mass of bodies allowed.

Only when she stepped outside into the crisp, evening air did she allow herself to relax enough to notice that her hands were shaking.

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow_

_-_

Alex rubbed her eyes trying to focus on the letters inside the dusty, hardcover book she was holding in her hands.

It took more effort than it warranted, but that was irrelevant. At least it gave her mind something to focus on besides the four walls that surrounded her.

She raised her eyelids and set down the book, when she heard the door opening.

Faison entered, followed by three other men.

Alex immediately recognized the oldest man in the group, having seen him in the stables. 'Pavel…the blacksmith,' she thought meeting his eyes. When she had explored the stables, he'd sometimes taken the time to practice his broken English on her. Now he purposely avoided her gaze.

Judging from the muscular stature of the other two men, Alex suspected they were part of Faison's security team.

Her heart skipped a beat at their combined presence.

'Are you expecting a struggle?' she wondered, resting her apprehensive gaze on Faison. 'And what kind of a struggle would require three men to help you out?'

Pavel, the blacksmith, carried a case that looked like a miniature golf bag, complete with thin, iron rods that stuck out of it.

"It's rather chilly in here isn't it?" Faison observed, as he moved towards the fireplace, lighting two of the burnt logs inside with a cigarette lighter. One of the younger men moved to kindle it, sparking several small flames.

"It's, uh…it's fine…" Alex managed. Her heart was racing now.

The second man moved to shut the door behind them.

"What are you doing?" Alex asked, the words catching in her throat. From the corner of her eye she saw Pavel set down his case next to the fire.

Faison smiled at her, sitting down at the edge of the bed she was lying in. "I want to make sure you can never deceive me again."

Alex saw that the blacksmith took out one of the thin iron rods and held it into the fire. Tiny sparks flew off its tip.

Faison's hand reached over for her arm. "I need you to roll back your sleeve for me."

Alex shirked away from him. She wore a brown cashmere, v-neck sweater. One of the articles of clothing he had brought back for her from Moscow.

Instead of rolling back her sleeve, she clasped its edge with her fingers, covering her hand with the fabric.

"Alexandra, don't make this difficult," he chided her, reaching over to grab her wrist.

His sinewy arms were strong and he loosened her fingers with ease.

Alex tried to free herself from his grip, but he pinned her down on the bed with both arms.

The old man walked over to them both, holding a burning hot rod in his hand. And as he approached her, Alex could make out the pattern on the end. It was a letter, just over an inch in length. A white-hot, glowing letter A.

Alex gasped as the realization suddenly dawned on her.

"You should know, Alexandra, that branding is one of the oldest forms of punishment on Earth," Faison explained calmly. "As early as the 12th century, King Henry II punished prisoners by branding them and later in the 1600's, French criminals were branded with a black Fleur de Lys. Back then, branding was a simple and foolproof means of identifying select individuals. Today only extreme tattoo artists perform branding, in order to satisfy thrill seekers that want a deeper scar. One that is impossible to remove."

Her heart pounded furiously now. "Don't do this please…"

"Initially the process is exceptionally painful," Faison told her.

"Please…" Alex pleaded. "I beg you, don't do this…"

"However," he continued, cutting her off. "Due to the heat of the iron, what you'll be incurring is a third degree burn, effectively killing your dermal layer and its underlying nerve endings. In other words, it might hurt like hell for the first few days, but you'll never regain sensitivity to the branded areas." He chuckled, "Hopefully that will offer you some consolation, knowing that you'll be able to spill a cup of hot coffee on your forearm and barely feel a thing."

"But then," Faison paused to stare at her. Pleased at the terror written all over her face, "I don't need to tell you this, do I? You're a doctor, Alexandra. In which case you're probably well aware that third degree burns are notorious for getting infected and…"

Alex didn't let him finish. Panic gripped her and she squirmed and kicked, landing a knee to his groin that weakened him enough to loosen his grip, allowing her to wriggle out from underneath it.

As if waiting for the moment, the two younger men ran towards her, each of them grabbing one of her arms as they pushed her back down on the bed.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you…" Faison hissed, regaining his balance.

The two men were strong. Even using all her strength to try and get out from under them, they barely flinched.

Faison rolled back the sleeve of her sweater past her elbow and Alex's eyes widened in terror as the blacksmith neared her with the iron rod, still glowing hot.

"Please don't…" she pleaded. "God, please don't do this…please…"

The tip of the rod touched her arm, a few inches above her wrist, and when the burning metal seared her flesh it sent a shockwave of pain through her body unlike anything she had ever felt before.

Alex screamed.

Faison brushed her hair aside, while the other men held her down. "I wanted you to feel the pain I've felt these past few days. The pain of betrayal."

Alex gasped, catching her breath only when the metal left her skin.

The smell of burnt flesh_, her_ flesh, combined with the pain, almost made her gag.

The old man came back with another rod. An L this time.

And he pressed it into her arm next to the A.

The pain took her breath away. It didn't stop when he took one iron rod away to replace it with another one. Fresh from the fire in her fireplace.

Nine rods. Nine letters.

He came back again. And again. Each time with a burning hot tip of metal that seared and sizzled as it implanted itself in her arm.

By the time he pressed the X into her flesh, she knew she wouldn't be able to stand it much longer.

"I hear your friends call you Alex," Faison's said. His voice sounded far-away now. "It's too bad I'm not your friend, Alex_andra_."

The old man came back with another rod, another A, but this time darkness engulfed her before it touched her arm.

_Later_

_Moscow_

_-_

Anna had barely entered her room, when she heard the phone ring.

She rushed to it, almost dropping the receiver before picking it up on the second ring. A smile broadened her lips when she heard the voice on the other end. "Robin…how are you?"

"I'm fine, Mom, how are you? Are you getting any closer to finding Alex?"

Anna tossed off her high heels and sank down on the bed. "I think we might have a lead, but I'm almost afraid to get my hopes up…tell me, how's my little sweetheart?"

She heard Robin laugh on the other end. "Leah's doing great, Mom. David is pretty amazing with her."

Anna felt her throat well up, aching to be in the same room as Robin. To hold Leah in her arms.

"He is so crazy about her…"

Anna heard Robin laugh.

"He's crazy about her mother too," David's voice suddenly replaced Robin's on the receiver and Anna couldn't help her lips from lifting into another smile. "I miss you, baby."

"I miss you too. Robin says Leah's good."

"She misses her mother."

Anna held the receiver tighter. "And I miss her."

"Are you really alright?"

"I will be when we find Alex."

"Come home safe, okay?"

Anna bit her lips, "I will. And, David…thank you, for looking after Leah. And Robin."

She pictured his smirk on the other end. "I plan on doing it for the rest of my life."

"Careful, I might hold you to that."

His voice was serious now. Gentle. "I love you, baby."

"I love you too."

Anna heard a knock on her door. "I should go," she said softly. 'Dimitri', she thought. It was most likely Dimitri standing outside her door, demanding to know whether she had finally gotten somewhere with Antonov.

She hung up the phone with reluctance, taking a moment to re-adjust her dress.

'That's one more thing you're taking from me, Cesar. I've already lost so much time with Robin and now you're keeping me from my baby girl. I'm keeping count.'

"Yes…"

It was indeed Dimitri Marick, Count Andrassy, standing in her doorway.

"Come in," she gestured. As usual, Dimitri looked impeccable. His tie was a perfect match for his pinstriped suit and not a hair was out of place on his aristocratic head.

'You'd rather die than show me that you're coming apart at the seams, wouldn't you?' she thought.

"Did you meet with him?"

Anna nodded. "Yes. He'll help us. For a price."

"How much?"

"$100,000. Cash."

Dimitri barely batted an eye. Not that Anna expected him to. "Will it actually lead us somewhere?" was what he asked.

"I don't know," Anna answered truthfully. "Dan thought it was a valid potential lead. Sean thinks so too."

"What do you think?"

"I'm not sure I'm ready to get my hopes up too high, but it's something."

His dark, narrow eyes locked onto hers. Even in a run-down hotel room, he had a commanding presence. "I don't care about the money, Anna. But I want to know whether this could be it."

"I can't give you any guarantees."

"When do you need it?"

"Tomorrow morning, before noon."

Dimitri paused, tilting his head in the soft light of her room, an angle that accented his already handsome features. "Fine. You'll have it."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me," he told her, leaving the room. "Find Alex."

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow_

_-_

Robert Scorpio was forced wide-awake at the sound of the clang that opened the steel door of his basement cell.

His eyes didn't adjust to the light quick enough to realize that there were three figures in the stone doorway.

One of the men looked like he was carrying something large.

A person.

"Looks like you finally have some company."

The man set down the person he was carrying, slamming the door shut behind him, and when Robert's eyes finally focused, he gasped.

"Oh God…"

It was a woman and she was unconscious. One of her arms was wrapped in a loose bandage and he detected a slight burnt odour.

His jaw dropped, when he moved to her other side and caught his first glimpse of her face.

He moved a hand over his mouth in shock.

_"Anna?"_


	46. Chapter 46

**Chapter 46**

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Robert Scorpio blinked, unable to comprehend what he was seeing.

Anna was here. In the cellar with him.

Faison's men had dumped her here and shut the door behind them.

Robert rushed down beside her, kneeling over her.

She was unconscious and obviously hurt.

"Come on, luv…" He gently slapped her cheeks with shaking hands. "Come on, wake up."

There was no reaction from her as his hand ran along her face.

His knees went weak.

"Get a grip," he scolded himself. 'Get over the fact that Anna is here and _help_ her'.

He leaned down towards her, grateful that she was breathing. Then he took her pulse and frowned. It was rapid and erratic.

"Shock," he decided. Judging from the bluish tinge around her lips and the cool, clammy feel of her skin.

He lifted her onto the stained mattress he'd slept on and grabbed one of his wool blankets and covered her with it. He raised her legs and loosened the buttons on her pants.

"Come on luv," he whispered, taking her pulse a second time. "It's me, Robbie. Wake up."

He gingerly pushed back the gauze bandage on her arm, wincing when he saw what was underneath. The flesh below was an angry swollen red and it was hot to touch. More than that just cut or torn, it looked… burnt. Charred.

It made Robert nauseous. "What the hell did he do to you?"

Then he heard a groan.

He squeezed her uninjured hand. "That's it, sweetheart. Wake up."

Her face was contorted in pain and it filled him with anger. After so many years, it wasn't supposed to be like this. Not like this.

'You're going to die for this Faison. If it's the last thing I do…you're going to die for this.'

Anna groaned, twisting her body as if trying to find a position that might offer her some sort of comfort.

"Not so fast…" he whispered, slipping his arm underneath her to cradle her in it. "I know it hurts, luv." He pushed back her hair from her face, not sure whether the fact that she now felt warm rather than cold was a good thing.

He bent down to kiss her forehead, unable to grasp that it was Anna he was holding in his arms. Anna. _After all this time._

He saw her eyes closing.

"Don't do that…I need you to stay awake, Anna." He squeezed her hand tighter. "Come on, luv. Look at me."

He wished he had something he could give her. _Do_ for her. But there was nothing.

Instead he set her back on the mattress and glanced at the bottled water that stood in the corner of the cell. Where the hell was that damn doctor that looked like Santa Claus?

If Faison wanted her dead why had wouldn't he have finished the job? Why would have tossed her into his basement prison? And if he didn't want to kill her, then why the hell wasn't he making sure she was alright?

Robert debated retrieving the water bottle to at least give her something to drink, but then decided against it. If she was in shock it was too soon.

"That's good," he said softly when he felt her hand return his squeeze. "You're going to be fine. I promise you, okay, luv? You know better than anyone that I keep my promises."

He kept talking, hoping it was enough to keep her awake. Enough to give her a minor diversion from the pain.

Her eyes were starting to glaze over.

"Not…Anna," she whispered. Her voice was so low; Robert could barely make out the words.

"What did you say?"

"I'm not Anna."

She was delirious.

He bent down to kiss her forehead again, surprised to find that it was warmer still than it was a few minutes ago. "It's okay, luv. It's going be okay."

_Alexei Estate Gymnasium_

_-_

Cesar Faison emerged from the gymnasium sweaty and dishevelled. His tightly bound, well-worn black belt had not stopped his white karate jacket from slipping out from underneath it.

Alexandra's branding had affected him more profoundly that he thought it would.

Given his rage he thought he'd be indifferent to her screams.

He was wrong.

All he could think was that he had made love to the same woman less than a week ago. Held her in his arms as he kissed her soft lips. Wrapped his strong, sinewy arms around her slender waist.

And now, in turn, her screams haunted him.

He placed his palms together and bowed before stepping out of the gym, his bare feet gliding along the wooden floor of the hallway outside.

He had hoped the brisk ninety minute workout would soothe and refocus his mind, instead he kept wondering whether Alexandra had regained consciousness.

He barely noticed that Jan Holstrom stood outside, handing him a towel.

"Sir…"

"What is it, Jan?" Faison asked briskly, taking the towel and wiping his forehead with it.

"May I ask you something?"

"What?"

"Why did you put Alexandra in the same cell as Robert Scorpio?"

Faison frowned. It had seemed like a delicious idea when it first occurred to him. Even more so when he saw Alexandra faint during the branding.

He wanted Robert to think the same thing he did.

He wanted Robert to think that he had the woman he loved back in his life. When in fact he didn't.

Yet even that ultimate of ironies didn't provide Faison with the gleeful satisfaction he had hoped for.

"I wanted to toy with Scorpio, that's all. To let him know he was going to die for the wrong woman."

"How long will you leave her in that cell with him?" Jan asked.

Faison looked at him, running the towel along his cheek, suddenly aware of Jan's keen interest. "What does it matter to you?"

Jan blushed. "I think the sooner we get out of Alexei Estate and distance ourselves from both of them, the better."

"Anna has no way of finding Alexei Estate. We've covered our tracks many times over."

"We have," Jan agreed. "But it would still make me feel better."

"I will give Alexandra a couple of days to recover, then we'll sedate her and drop her off in Moscow. I will kill Robert myself and have him buried off the grounds."

"But if we free Alexandra she can tell the authorities where the Estate is…its name alone is enough to…sir, they will search the estate!"

"I'm not going to kill her, Jan," Faison scolded him. "She's Anna's twin sister. Don't bother entertaining the thought."

"But…" Jan stammered.

"I have enough friends in the Moscow police to ensure that no investigation against me holds any weight. We're leaving Russia after we drop off Alexandra. Other than Alexandra's word there will be no evidence to suggest we ever held her here."

Jan said nothing, yet he betrayed his anxiety with tiny droplets of sweat that formed along the bridge of his nose, underneath the wire frames of his glasses. "I also don't think it's a good idea for you to kill Robert yourself. What if one day they find the body, and link you to his murder?"

The question irritated Faison. How could Jan possibly suggest denying him that pleasure? "I'm not going to strangle him with my bare hands."

"I didn't mean to suggest that you were careless I just…"

Faison took a gulp from a plastic Evian bottle, cutting him off when he was done. "Stop fretting, Jan. It's not good for your already fragile health."

_Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Anna checked her watch for the third time in ten minutes. It was 12:02pm now. He should have been here at noon.

Where was Ilya?

She bit a nail as she stared at the camel-coloured telephone in her hotel room, as though willpower alone could make it ring.

Dimitri Marick stood in the room with her, lighting the third cigarette in what she was sure was a span of no more than ten minutes.

"He's late," Dimitri pointed out.

Anna ignored him as she kept her gaze on the phone.

When it rang in response to her stare, it made her jump.

"Yes?" she breathed, picking up the receiver.

"I'm in the hallway," an accented voice told her. She recognized it as Ilya's.

"I'm in the room. I'll unlock it," Anna told him putting down the phone.

Her eyes told Dimitri what he had been waiting to hear. The information was on its way.

Ilya entered without knocking. He was alone and as soon as he came in Anna handed him a paper bag in exchange for a manila envelope.

Ilya poured out its contents, ignoring Dimitri while he counted out the American bills.

"It's all there," Dimitri hissed.

Anna shot him a dirty look as she yanked out the contents of the envelope.

Two names. Two small, shipping companies in St. Petersburg. Two contact names within those companies.

"It is fine," Ilya told her, throwing the money back into the bag.

He turned and left without another word.

"Well?" Dimitri demanded.

"It's good," Anna told him. "If Sean's hunch is right, this could get us an actual address."

"So what do we do with the information?"

"We give it to Sean and Sandrine and they take it from there."

"And in the meantime?"

Anna picked up the phone to call Sean, glancing at Dimitri as it rang at the other end.

"In the meantime, we wait."

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow_

_-_

Robert jumped when he heard the cell door open again.

This time it was the English doctor.

"What the hell took you so long?" Robert demanded.

It must have been hours since Anna had been thrown into the room with him.

She was feverish now and mumbling things he couldn't understand, drifting between delirium and wakefulness.

"What happened to her?" Robert demanded.

The old man sat kneeled next to Anna, carefully examining the gauze bandage "She was branded."

"_Branded_?" Robert looked at him in disbelief.

"It's a popular form of punishment," he said non-chalantly. "She'll be fine. Faison shouldn't have done as much as he did all at once, that's all. The sheer amount would put her into shock."

"She's in a lot of pain."

The doctor slowly raised the gauze bandage. "The burns are deep enough to have killed the nerve endings underneath." He pointed to the rim of the burnt flesh, as though he were a fascinated teacher attempting to explain something to a pupil. "It's the edges of the burn that become infected and cause the pain. If it heals well, the pain should subside after about 48 hours. All of it should scab over in about a week, leaving behind a black, slightly raised scar not unlike a tattoo."

"Why?" Robert asked in astonishment. "Why the hell would he do that?"

The doctor shrugged his shoulders. "I don't ask questions."

"Of course not," Robert mumbled under his breath. "As long as you're getting paid."

He watched as the old man pulled a syringe out of his black medical bag and injected its contents into her arm.

"This should help with the pain," he explained, while tossing him a bottle of pills. "Once she wakes up she can take something orally for it. You can give her one of these every four hours if she needs it."

"I'm going to set up a basic saline IV for her. She's dehydrated and burn wounds are notorious for depriving the body of essential fluids. You can leave it in until I come by tomorrow morning."

Robert stared at him dumbfounded. "That's it? You come in here, set up in IV, toss me a few pills and leave?"

"There is nothing else I can do. It's going to take time for the burns to heal and in the meantime, it will hurt. That's all there is to it. I said I will be back tomorrow morning to see if her fever's gone down, and then I'll change the bandage for her."

"Wait…" Robert jumped. "There has to be something more you can do…it's cold and damp in here. Get me some more blankets, and water, damn it."

When he was finished setting up the intravenous line, the doctor gave him a look of irritation. "I don't think you're in any position to make any demands, Mr. Scorpio."

"What is he going to do with Anna?" Robert demanded. "Why bring her here to me?"

"Look, I don't know and I don't care," the doctor replied, picking up his medical bag from the floor.

Robert blocked the old man's way. "Please…you have to help her."

The doctor stared him down. "Get out of my way before I call for the guard."

Robert could easily have taken him down.

'And then what?' he asked himself. 'Watch as half a dozen guards rush in to tackle me?'

At least Anna was here with him, and he was well enough to look after her now. 'Focus on the now.'

Robert watched angrily as the old man left, slamming the steel door shut behind him. 'Where are you, Sandi?' She should have received the couriered envelope of his whereabouts days ago. 'What's taking you so long?'

Even if Sampson hindered her efforts to send a team here to rescue him, he trusted Sandrine to find a way around his machinations.

His gaze went back to Anna. Thanks to whatever was in the doctor's syringe, it looked like she was finally falling into some semblance of restful sleep.

'I'm counting on you Sandi, 'cause I don't think we have much more time…'

_St. Petersburg, Russia_

_-_

Sandrine Mutanga winced when she looked into the mirror inside her hotel room. One side of her face looked like an overripe plum. 'You better keep your end of the bargain, Jan Holstrom,' she thought angrily, testing its soreness by running a finger along the colourful bruise.

'And what if he doesn't?' she asked herself. 'I have no way of making sure he does…' The thought gave her the chills and she turned away from the mirror.

Days had passed since Jan's escape in Paris and there was still no word from Robert. She had called Sampson's office in Kinshasa every day since then, checking to see if Robert had made contact with him. Every day she had put up with Sampson's irritation. Sampson's reminder that she owed him. Sampson's skin-crawling suggestions of how she would pay him. And still nothing.

'Jan has to help Robert, for his self-preservation if for no other reason.'

Yet why did that fact provide her so little reassurance?

She heard a knock on the door and moved to answer it, only to find Sean Donely standing outside. Every time she saw him she tried to see the man who was once Robert's best friend, yet all she saw was a man who distrusted her so obviously, it took no small amount of effort on her part to stay civil with him.

The truth was she didn't like Sean Donely.

Perhaps it was because his loyalty to Robert's ex-wife ran so deep. Or perhaps it was something simpler, like the fact that he never bothered to hide his dislike of her.

"Yes…?" she asked.

"I need you to meet me in the lobby in ten minutes," he told her.

"Did Anna call you?" she asked.

Sean nodded. "We have two companies to check out."

Sandrine's swollen face lit up. "That is fabulous news!" She grabbed a purse and jacket. "I don't need ten minutes," she told him. "I'm ready now. Let's go."

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow_

_Later_

_-_

Something grabbed his wrist and it jarred Robert awake.

"Damn," he mumbled. He had sworn he wasn't going to fall asleep. But as Anna's breathing had steadied, he'd let himself relax, and before he knew it his eyes had closed.

He groaned as he pushed himself off the stone floor. His back was sore from sleeping on the stone and he shivered in the cold damp of the room.

When he turned to Anna, he saw her eyes staring at him. They were no longer glazed and delirious. Tired yes, but clear.

He held her glance longer than he intended to, and as he did he felt something he couldn't explain. Something odd that he couldn't describe.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'll be fine," she whispered. Her voice was still low enough to make it hard for him to hear her. She stared at him as though seeing a ghost. "You're…you're Robert Scorpio, aren't you?"

"I know this is a shock…" he managed, wondering how long she had been observing him. Wondering why she'd call him by his full name. "It's a really long story, luv."

"They have no idea that you're alive…Robin. Your daughter. She has _no_ idea."

"Anna, I had no choice. Ten years ago, after the explosion. I made a deal."

She raised her uninjured arm to his chest, nearly pulling out the old doctor's IV line in the process. "I'm not Anna."

Robert swallowed. _What the hell have you done to her, Faison?_

"What do you mean, luv?" he asked, gently pushing her arm back down onto the mattress.

"My name is Alex," she whispered. "Alex Marick."

Robert wondered if Faison had drugged her. On top of everything else. If he had given her mind-altering drugs. Or worse.

"Listen to me, luv. Faison did something to you to make you…"

"No," she cut him off. "_You're_ not listening to me." She grabbed his t-shirt, with surprising force. "I'm not Anna. I'm her twin sister."

Robert looked at her, terrified of what Faison might have done. "Anna, sweetheart, you don't have twin sister, whatever Faison made you believe it's false…"

She tightened her grasp on his shirt, "For god's sake, would you listen to me? Anna didn't know she had a twin sister until a few years ago. Neither of us knew." The effort she exerted took its toll and her breathing was laboured again. "My arm…he branded my name into my arm… in order to tell us apart."

"Anna, that's crazy…you're not…"

"Take a look under the bandage, Robert."

"No," he shook his head. What she was saying was impossible. Faison had to have brainwashed her somehow. "I don't believe…"

She pushed herself off the mattress and moved a hand to the gauze bandage on the other arm.

"This is insane," Robert kneeled down next to her. "Anna, stop it, please, luv."

"_Stop calling me that_!" her eyes were angry now. And the same way his first real glance into them had felt odd a few minutes ago, it felt odd now. It was as though he was looking into eyes that were at once familiar and foreign. "Think about it…Faison loves Anna," she told him. "He's obsessed with her. He would never have done to her what he did to me."

Before he could stop her, she had removed part of the bandage that covered her entire forearm. The wound underneath was a mess. Yet even so, he could vaguely make out the letters. Nine letters.

_Alexandra_.

She sank back down, exhausted. "Do you believe me now?"

Was it possible that her accent suddenly sounded different from Anna's?

Robert shook his head.

A twin sister.

No.

It was absurd.

Impossible.

"Look," he said, trying to explain why. "After I made a deal with Faison, I had an informant within Faison's circle who made sure that he kept his deal, while the WSB sent me photos of Anna and Robin, my informant kept a closer eye, not on my wife and daughter but on the man who threatened them." Robert explained. "That's how I found out that he had kidnapped Anna. And now you're telling me you're not Anna. If…" he hesitated. "If you are this…" He could barely bring himself to say the words, as if by voicing them he was legitimizing them "…sister, why would Faison kidnap you, not Anna?"

"Faison thought he blackmailed Anna into meeting with him, but Anna was ill, so I stepped in for her."

Robert leaned against the cold, stone wall. "You '_stepped in'_ for her?"

"Things went wrong," she said softly, closing her eyes. "So I had no choice but to keep up the charade. But a few days ago Faison found out. He wasn't very happy."

Robert stared at her. She was coherent. Cohesive. Yet he couldn't bring himself to believe a word she said.

She looked _exactly _like Anna.

"If you're not, Anna then who are you?" he pressed, trying to gauge her reaction.

Even now, when she winced as she set down her arm, the expression was one he had sworn he'd seen before on the woman he once loved.

"Whatever the doc gave you for the pain must be wearing off," he told her, getting up to grab the bottle of pills the doctor left behind for her. "He said you can take these if you need."

He watched her examine the container before pouring one out. "Do you have anything to drink?" she asked him.

He handed her his only bottle of water. "Here."

His eyes were glued to her as she swallowed it. "Does it hurt a lot?"

The woman, _Alex_... he couldn't bring himself to call her that just yet, didn't give him an answer. Her look hinted that his question didn't merit one.

"I have a lot of questions I want to ask you," Robert told her.

"And I have a lot of questions for you," she countered, sitting up on his mattress as she leaned against the wall. "Starting with why are you here? You're supposed to be dead."

"Neither Anna nor I died on that tanker explosion."

"I can see that."

"Like Anna, I was badly hurt and when I woke up in a Venezuelan hospital, the first thing I saw was Cesar Faison hovering over me. At that moment, I realized that by offering to leave my wife and daughter, I could give them the one thing I never could while I was with them. I could free them from Faison. It was a victory for Faison, knowing he had deprived me of the woman we both loved. I went back to the WSB, and they agreed with my offer. They agreed to call off the Black Box order on Anna, if I went back to them."

"But that wasn't enough to keep her safe, was it?"

"No, it wasn't. For years I paid an informant to make sure Faison kept his word to stay from Anna and Robin."

"And when he didn't, you rushed off to rescue her," she finished for him.

"I came to kill Faison for breaking his word," he corrected her. "Anna would take offence if I thought she needed rescuing."

"Not that her taking offence would stop you." Alex lifted her lips into a meagre smile. "Things didn't turn out as planned for you either, I see. I know how that feels."

"No," he admitted. "Things didn't turn out as planned."

Her expression darkened. "But why did Faison imprison you?"

"As opposed to kill me outright, you mean?" Robert asked. "Because he wants to know how I found him. He won't kill me until he does. It's the one card I hold in my favour."

"Are you sure?" Alex asked, her eyelids closing again.

Robert didn't answer her. He wasn't sure. Not anymore. If this woman truly was Anna twin sister maybe Faison didn't care anymore.

'In which case, he has no reason to keep me alive…'

Robert helped her lie back down, still unable to grasp the idea that it wasn't Anna who was here with him.

Alex… what did she say her last name was?

He couldn't take his eyes off her, as she drifted back into a restless sleep.

"Alex," he mumbled. "There's so much I need to ask you. _So much_."

He brushed a strand of hair from her face.

The woman lying next to him was a stranger. A stranger with Anna's face.

Yet, when all was said and done, the thought of his ex-wife having an identical twin wasn't his biggest problem.

Robert shivered as he covered her with a second blanket.

'If Faison has no reason to keep me alive, then we need to get the hell out of here. Now.'


	47. Chapter 47

**Chapter 47**

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Robert Scorpio took another bite of the tasteless stew that swam in the stainless steel bowl he was holding.

'If you don't eat, you lose your strength,' he thought, swallowing it with difficulty. It was the same thing he'd eaten for days. Meat he couldn't identify mixed in a watery broth with chunky potatoes and carrots. 'If he's still feeding you, it means he doesn't want you dead. Not yet.'

In fact, glancing down at the bowl in front of him he suddenly realized it was more food than he normally got.

'Because now it's meant for two people,' he thought, looking at Alex still asleep on the mattress.

_Alex_. It seemed surreal to call her that. His lips played with the name, rolling it off his tongue until it didn't sound forced and foreign anymore.

He nudged her gently, hoping to wake her and convince her to eat something before it got cold. She'd been a restless sleeper and when he touched her face her skin still felt warm against his.

He debated whether to let her sleep, wondering when she last ate.

'Feed a fever, starve a cold…' Was that the saying? Or was it the other way around?

"Hey…come on, Alex, wake up…" he nudged her again.

When she did wake up, it was with a gasp and jump.

"Hey, I'm sorry…I didn't mean to scare you."

She looked at him wild-eyed and pushed herself off the mattress, ripping out the IV needle that was in her arm. "Get it off…please."

"Get what off?" he didn't understand.

She was on her knees now and in one swift gesture nearly tore off the gauze bandage on her arm. "Get it off…_just take it off_!

"Alex…don't touch it, it's probably already infected. Come on, sit down, please," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders.

She ripped off the rest of the bandage, revealing a red, swollen mess underneath. The letters had bloated together, making them barely legible. Alex was hysterical. "I can't stand to look at it…please, there has to be some way to get rid of it!"

She was about the tear at it with her fingernails, but Robert caught her before she had a chance to inflict any damage. He grabbed both her wrists and pushed her back down on the bed, shocked at the wild fear in her eyes. He straddled himself over her, sitting on her thighs to stop her from squirming underneath.

"Alex!" he yelled. "Stop it! The last thing I want to do is use force on you!"

She tried to fight him, but even in her hysterical state she soon realized the futility of her efforts.

Robert held her tighter. "Sweetheart, I need you to get a grip, okay?"

Eyes wide open, she managed a nod. "Yes…"

"Take a deep breath."

She stared at him.

"_Do it_!"

She did, while his arms still pinned her down.

"Again."

Slowly he felt her breathing steady and saw her eyes lose their look of terror.

"I'm going to let go of you now," he said softly. "Promise me you won't hurt yourself?"

"Yes…"

He slowly let go of her arms and moved himself off of her body, waiting for a reaction, feeling his own tension subside when he saw her stay calm.

"I'm sorry…" she whispered, only now fully awake. "I had a dream. I dreamt that I tried to take off the…" She glanced at her arm. "The scar…and I couldn't…I couldn't take it off."

Robert didn't know what to say. "You have a fever. Maybe that's what caused your nightmare."

She nodded, looking at him as though she wasn't buying it. "Yeah."

Robert watched her struggle to remain composed.

He moved a hand over hers, part of him wanting to take her into his arms, wondering what else she'd gone through in the weeks that she had pretended to be Anna. "You're going be okay, Alex. But until we get out of here, I need you to stay calm. Do you think you can do that?"

"Yes."

Her unexpected panic and consequent struggle had drained Robert and he leaned against the wall next to her, staring at the bowl of stew that sat on the floor. "When's the last time you ate something?" he asked her.

"I'm hungry," she admitted.

He was pleased to hear her it, especially in the cohesive tone of voice that she announced it. "I bet." He handed her the bowl. "It tastes awful, but it hasn't killed me yet."

She took it gratefully, wincing when the bowl accidentally brushed against her arm.

Robert cringed. "I don't think we should leave your arm uncovered like that."

"It's fine," she said, dipping into the stew, seemingly oblivious to its unappealing taste.

"Are you a doctor now?"

"I am actually," she answered.

Robert observed her, wondering if she was joking. 'If you were Anna, I'd be able to tell.'

With every word she said, the subtle differences between her and Anna became more obvious. Their voices might have been similar, yet Alex's intonation was different. Her speech was deliberate and precise. She was less animated than Anna, rarely using body language in her conversation.

'But who knows what Anna is like after all this time, or how animated she'd be given the circumstances,' a voice inside him answered, once again making him doubt everything that Alex had told him. Making him think that perhaps Faison had somehow brainwashed Anna after all.

'Except whenever I used to look into Anna's eyes, I felt like I was looking into her soul…whereas now I feel like I'm looking at a stranger whom I can't read at all.'

"Are you serious?" he asked her.

"I haven't practised in almost two years," she told him. "But I am a physician. I've spent most of my career in labs, doing research."

Robert stared at her, trying to read something in a pair of eyes that were identical to Anna's. Yet entirely different.

"You don't look convinced." She caught his gaze. "Am I supposed to prove it to you?"

He chuckled, amused at her indignation. "How? You want to perform brain surgery on me?"

The comment lit her face into an unexpected smile.

'You have Anna's smile,' he realized eerily, suddenly longing see it again. Not in a lifeless photo. But here. Next to him.

"I don't think that would bode well for you," she answered. "I said I was a doctor not a neurosurgeon." -

"I don't know anything about you," he told her, serious again.

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

He watched as she stopped eating to ponder the question. "Well…I'm the same age as Anna."

Robert grunted. "Right. You're also more serious, but I'm starting to see that it doesn't mean you lack a sense of humour. I can see the same Devane stubbornness but you're more defensive than Anna. Lastly, judging from the way your arm looks and the fact that you haven't complained about it, tells me you're tougher than you look."

Alex smirked. "Well then, it looks like you do have me all figured out, Robert."

"Tell me what I don't know."

"I grew up in Wales," she answered. "But I spent most of my adult life in London. I had a practice there which I was ready to give up because I couldn't stand to lose my patients anymore."

Robert raised an eyebrow.

"I treated patients with prion diseases," she explained. "Very few have cures."

"I'm sorry…"

She looked pensive. "No, don't be. I'm glad I didn't quit when I wanted to, because my practice was where I met my husband."

"He's a doctor too?"

Alex shook her head, setting down the half empty bowl of stew. "No, he was a patient of mine."

Robert smiled, suddenly understanding what she was saying. "Ah…you saved his life and he fell in love with you."

"Something like that." He watched her lean against the wall, pulling his blanket over her knees. He got up to help her when he saw her struggle to do it with one arm.

"When he was in remission Dimitri asked me to marry him. I did and afterwards moved to America with him. It was there that a man named Bart made contact with me."

Robert straightened his back,."The same Bart that was keeping an eye on Anna in Canada?" He knew only that Anna had moved from Canada back to the States a few years ago. He had no idea that her twin sister might have had something to do with that decision.

Alex nodded. "Keeping an eye is putting it loosely. He saw himself as her personal bodyguard."

"How did Bart find out about you and why did he contact you?"

"He saw a photo of me at a fundraising gala, in a newspaper. He was shocked, of course, but in the end I think the fact that was a doctor outweighed that I was Anna's long, lost twin sister."

"You had no idea you had a twin sister?"

"None."

"It must have been a shock to both of you."

Alex nodded. "It was. But, truthfully, neither of us had much time to really digest it."

"What do you mean?"

"Anna wasn't well. She was emerging from the amnesia and having seizures which caused her to black out."

Robert felt a knot tighten in his stomach. All those years ago, he thought he'd left Anna to keep her alive. In truth, he'd abandoned her when she needed him most. "Why?" he managed.

"She was living in an isolated cabin in Northern Ontario, with virtually no medical care monitoring the cranial injuries she incurred during the tanker explosion." Alex sighed, pushing aside the rest of the stew. "Frankly, it's amazing she was doing as well as she was."

"So what did you do?"

"Bart thought he could bring me up to Canada, that it would be like a simple house call. A doctor coming up to give her an instant cure to make her better."

"It wasn't that simple, I take it?"

"No....no, it wasn't."

"What _did_ you do?" He desperately wanted to know now. Although he saw that Alex was having trouble keeping her eyes open, he was too impatient for her to stop. For so many years he had convinced himself not knowing was better. Easier.

Now he ached to know. Everything.

"It took a lot of convincing but I brought her back to the States. To get her the treatment she needed to control the seizures."

'Thank you,' he wanted to say. But the words got caught in his throat. 'Thank you, for taking care of her when I couldn't.'

"Did you?" he asked instead.

"Yes. I wanted surgery to be a last resort and thankfully it wasn't necessary. She responded well to a course of medication I put her on."

"Is she still on medication?"

Alex shook her head. "No, she stopped a few months after her release from the hospital."

"So, she's fine then?"

Alex looked pensive. "I think so, but you know Anna. She's stubborn. She has recurring headaches and sometimes their severity worries me, but I believe her seizures were brought on by a viral infection, not as a result of the scarring in her brain tissue."

"So her memory came back completely?" Alex was tired and he was pushing her. But he had to know.

Robert noticed that Alex reached over to pour another pill from the container the doctor had left behind, washing it down with a sip of water from his plastic bottle. Her forearm was a swollen, raging red. It was hard to look at it.

"Did it come back? Her memory?" he pressed gently.

Alex nodded. "Slowly, but yes, it came back."

"Then what?"

"I moved to Hungary with my husband while Anna remained in Pine Valley. She became Chief of Police. Got married."

"Do you know her husband?"

Alex closed her eyes. "Yes, I know David Hayward."

He instantly caught the irritation in her voice. "You don't like him?"

Alex opened her eyelids slowly, as though the whole process took more effort than it was worth. "You could say that."

"Why?"

"I don't trust him. I did my residency alongside him in London. His ethics have always been… questionable."

Robert frowned. What was it that drew Anna to men like that? First Duke now David. 'Because at least they don't leave you,' he answered his own question guiltily.

"But he loves her?"

Alex took another sip of water from the bottle. "Yes. If nothing else, I do think David loves her, in his own odd way."

"They have a child, don't they?"

Alex nodded, a semblance of a smile playing on her lips. "A little girl. Leah. She's beautiful."

Robert swallowed. "She's happy then? With David."

"Look…Robert, I don't know. My sister divorced and left him when she became pregnant. David came to Paris only because Leah was very ill."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying you can't really tell how your wife is doing when you're dead to her." Accusation lined her voice.

'Why is it that just by talking to you, you're making me miss her more than I have in the last ten years?'

"I need to know something else," Robert started.

Alex cupped her forehead into the palm of her hand. "I'm really tired, Robert…"

Robert got up to help her lie down, feeling the warmth of her skin against his. He covered her with the two bristly woollen blankets he had, careful not to touch her arm with them. "You've still got a fever."

She nodded. "It's…okay. An after-effect of the burns. I don't think it will last."

He looked down at her, not sure whether to believe her. She didn't look well and Robert wondered whether it was more than just what Faison had done to her arm. "Alex, I need to know about my…I need to know about Robin."

Alex looked up at him. "She's an amazing young woman, Robert."

The knot that sat in his stomach moved into his throat and Robert had to make an effort to keep his voice steady. "Is she… alright?"

Alex paused, weighing her words. "She's studying medicine at the Sorbonne."

"Medicine…" Robert felt a swell of pride rise alongside the guilt. Alongside the longing and the regret. "My little girl is going to be a doctor."

"Are you close to her? Does she have a boyfriend?" The questions tumbled out.

"When we get out of here, Robert. Then you can ask her those questions yourself," she answered tiredly. She was drifting back to sleep now.

God, there was so much more he wanted to ask. He had an endless supply of questions.

"Alex…" he said softly, "I don't know if I'm getting out of here."

Her eyes opened again, staring at him. "If Faison wanted you dead, why would you still be here?"

"You're not Anna. That changes a lot. He might not give a damn how I found him anymore."

"What about your informant? He should help you for his own sake, shouldn't he?"

Robert frowned. "Maybe he's not in a position to help me or maybe Faison ordered someone else to kill me, in which case he might not feel threatened enough to help me. I was counting on my partner being here by now…"

"Your partner?"

"My partner in the WSB. Sandrine…I couriered her the co-ordinates of the estate."

Alex frowned. "So where is she?"

Robert matched her frown with a deeper one of his own. "That's a good question."

"Did you…did you say Doctor Thorpe is coming back to check on me?"

Robert nodded, shivering as he noticed once more how cold it was in here, without the blanket that he had wrapped around him continuously before Alex's arrival.

"He will help us," Alex said quietly.

Robert narrowed his brows. "Not to burst your bubble, but I don't think he could less whether he finds us dead or alive in here."

"He _will _help us," Alex repeated with a determination that sounded eerily familiar, just before her eyes closed again.

He watched as her breathing steadied and she fell back asleep.

Robert caught a glimpse of the grey-brown rat he'd seen in his cell before. Its head stuck out from behind an uneven slab of stone on the floor.

It was staring at the half-eaten plate of stew with hungry eyes and Robert scooped the bowl up into his lap, picking up a fork to finish off what Alex left behind.

He made a note to leave some for the rat, in the hopes that the food would divert the rodent's attention from the two of them.

The last thing Robert wanted was for its teeth to find their way towards the open wound on Alex's arm, should he happen to fall asleep.

_St. Petersburg, Russia_

_-_

"Here," Sean Donely said, handing Sandrine the semi-automatic handgun. "Take this." They were standing on the banks of the Neva River, in a nearly deserted industrial area outside the city core.

It was dusk and the last hint of sunlight faded in the west, leaving the riverside bathed in a soft, milky hue that gave them an ideal combination of light and darkness.

Sandrine examined the weapon and checked its magazine before shoving it into her purse. She raised her eyebrows. "Are you sure you trust me not to kill you with it?"

Sean chuckled. "If I thought you were fast enough to kill me with it I wouldn't have given it to you."

Sandrine rolled her eyes. "It was a joke."

Sean smirked. "Well then, in that case I was joking too, Sandi."

Sandrine blushed. "Don't call me that."

Sean's expression changed, turning as serious as she had ever seen it. "Look, Ms. Mutanga, we're going in there to find out where those goods went. I'm not leaving that building until we have the information we need. I'd hate to see us screw up because your dislike of me is making you uncomfortable."

Sandrine blushed a deeper red. "You don't have to worry about that."

Sean lowered his shoulders to adjust his jacket, "Good." He double-checked the holster where his own semi rested next to his chest. "You know what we're doing?"

"We find Slobodyanyuk," Sandrine answered, pronouncing the name with deliberate care. Sean had drilled the name and face into her conscience. "He should be there alone."

"If he's not?" Sean asked, testing her. He had gone over their plan of action half dozen times in her hotel room last night. _His _course of action, she thought. While Robert would have asked for her opinions, as any partner would have, Sean didn't bother. He was the boss and he didn't hesitate to let her know it.

"We play the cover story. That we're two Americans looking to ship sensitive goods into the lower Chinese mainland. We may have to make an appointment to get him alone."

"And if he's already alone?" Sean pressed.

Sandrine smiled. "Then we get right to the point. We tell him what we need." She glanced at her semi. "We tell him that not helping us could cost him his life."

"We're going to go in there and threaten a man's life," Sean reminded her. "Can you handle that?"

Sandrine met his eyes. "Yes." 'For Robert,' she thought. 'I can handle anything.'

"If he refuses?"

'He won't,' Sandrine thought. Disclosing a shipping address wasn't worth losing a life over. Even in a firm that dealt with the Mafia, where privacy and discretion was paramount. "You will let him know that we're serious…" Sandrine answered, shuddering at the thought of what she knew Sean would do.

"You got it." Sean's face was impassive. "And what happens if we get surprised and outnumbered?"

"We both focus only on getting out. Not helping each other."

"That's right," Sean confirmed. "Just because I don't trust you doesn't mean I want to see you get killed."

Sandrine frowned. She would never have considered leaving Robert behind if she thought he was in danger, while on a mission. Sean was a different matter. 'If I have to desert you, it will be only because Robert has no one else to help him out, not because I'm following your orders, Mr. Donely,' she thought. Regardless of what she thought about him, he was still a fellow agent. More than that, he was Robert's friend.

Sean glanced at her, as if trying to read her thoughts. Then he focused his gaze towards the gradually darkening warehouse in front of them.

"Let's do it."

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow_

_-_

Alex stood up with unsteady legs to make her way to the partly portioned corner of the cell that housed a sink and a dirty porcelain bowl vaguely resembling a toilet.

It was dark inside the cell and the stone wall swam in front of her eyes.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Robert asked, jumping up to steady her.

"I don't feel so good…" she mumbled. It was a bitter understatement. Aside from the nausea that assaulted her when she woke up, Alex felt as though every part of her ached. From the pulsating, throbbing pain that ran from her wrist to her elbow on her branded arm to the unrelenting soreness of her thigh, her entire body felt cold and uncomfortable.

The sight of the ghastly bathroom hammered in the terror of never leaving this place and Alex felt her heart race.

She clutched onto Robert's arm.

He sensed her fear. "Alex…are you okay?"

"I'm scared, Robert…I have to get out of here…"

He held on to her, his gruff, bearded face lined with obvious concern. "You will get out of here."

"You don't know that…"

His strong hands tightened on her shoulders. "I know that if Faison wanted you dead, you wouldn't be here."

Just like his grip on her, his voice was certain and strong, and it served to hold her panic at bay.

Without her realizing it, his arm had wrapped itself around her waist and he was guiding her back down to the mattress.

"Alex, you're hyperventilating..."

She hadn't realized it until he mentioned it. Nor did she realize she was crying until she touched her cheeks and felt that they were wet.

She didn't realize she was sitting back down on the mattress until she felt she could touch the cold, damp floor with her hands.

"Hey, sweetheart…listen to me," Robert gently brushed a strand of hair aside, that had gotten stuck on a tearstained cheek. "I know you've been through hell and that you're afraid but I need you to hang in there for me, just a little bit longer."

"Yes…" Alex nodded, without meaning it. She wanted Dimitri. Andrei. She wanted to be back at Vadsel where it was warm. Bright. Safe.

She wanted it so badly that it intensified her physical pain, making it almost unbearable.

"Alex," Robert repeated, this time cupping her chin in his hand, forcing her to meet his eyes. They were a warm, reassuring blue, the colour of a perfect summer day's sky. "You said you were going to get the old doc to help. How? How are you going to do that?"

"I don't know if I can do this anymore…" she managed feeling the terror well up again. "I don't know." Tears now fell without her knowledge, and Alex almost wished she could retreat back into the blessed oblivion of unconsciousness.

Anything to not feel the fear anymore. To not feel anything at all.

It was finally happening. She was losing her mind. And she no longer cared.

As long as it was happening here it didn't matter.

Nothing mattered.

"Alex," Robert voice's propelled her back into the present. It was sterner now, but his blue eyes were still kind and their gaze didn't waver. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I promise you that but I need you to stay strong a little longer."

Alex stared at him, wondering how many times he'd said the same words, with that same certainty, to her sister. Robert Scorpio was a strong man. 'It couldn't have been easy to be strong enough for my sister, but I have a feeling you were.' No wonder he had been the love of her life.

_How do you let go of a love like that? How would Anna react to know he was here? Alive?_

"Alex," he whispered, forcing her to focus once more. "Tell me what you meant when you said the doc would help us."

"I know him," she answered.

"You know him?" Robert asked, puzzled. "I don't understand…"

"In 1996, two European pharmaceuticals, Ciba-Geigy and Sandoz merged to form a single company called Novartis," Alex paused, taking a deep breath as she steadied her voice. "To mark the occasion, they held a press conference in London to announce a 5 million pound grant for prion disease research," Alex explained, slowly, forcing herself to concentrate on something other her surroundings. "Three teams, two universities and one in the private sector, competed for the grant. I was on one of them, and I recently found out Doctor Thorpe was on another."

"Well, well..." Robert shook his head in disbelief. "It_ is_ a small world."

"My research team received the grant," Alex added. "It was a big opportunity and it suddenly gave us a lot of clout in Europe's medical community."

"So Thorpe knows you…"

"Not really," Alex corrected him. "When he looked after me, as Anna, he mentioned something about applying to work on one of my projects and not being given the courtesy of an interview. It was then that I realized who he was. I remembered doing a background check on him years ago and discovering that he'd published an unaccredited article. I sent it to his supervising professor. Shortly afterwards, Thorpe was let go from a research position at the University of Cambridge."

"You had him disgraced and fired?" Robert narrowed his brows. "In other words, he knows you _and _hates you?"

"No," Alex shook her head. "He has no idea I was the reason he was let go and I didn't find out about his dismissal until much later."

"I still don't get it," Robert asked, confused. "How is your shaky connection to him going to make him help us?"

"He knows who I am, knows my reputation in the medical community" Alex said softly. "That's all that matters."

Robert didn't have a chance to press her on the subject.

The steel cellar door creaked open before he could say anything else.

The old man eyed them both with irritation. Robert had a feeling the Englishman wasn't enjoying his prolonged duties in the backwaters of Russia.

"How are you feeling today, Anna?" he asked Alex.

"I'm not Anna," she answered. "I'm her sister, Alexandra."

The old doctor chuckled, "Right." He set down his leather medical bag on the damp, stone floor. "I don't feel like playing games, Anna. If you don't want to tell me how you feel, just say so. I only ask because it simplifies my evaluation of your condition. Don't think that I care."

Alex ignored the jab. "In 1996 you were discharged from a laboratory position at the University of Cambridge because you were suspected of publishing research results that should have been credited to another scientist."

Robert watched as the old man's face paled.

"How did you find out…" he started.

"I'm the one who called Professor Gooding to suggest he investigate your sources."

The doctor stared at her. "You're not…"

"Two years later I joined Doctor Steinmann to work on a project at the University of Gottingen in Germany, where we pioneered the use of fluorescent spectroscopy to help identify prions in cerebrospinal fluid…you're familiar with the process aren't you? Because prion disease was your primary field of study too wasn't it?"

A silent smile raised Robert's lips as he heard the words flow from her mouth without hesitation. Alex was in control now. Gone was the terrified, panicked woman he had calmed down only minutes ago.

"You're_ Alexandra Devane_?" the doctor asked incredulously. "_How?"_

"Don't you get it?" she pointed out. "It's why Faison did what he did. He branded me so he could never mistake me for Anna again." She exhaled, "It's why I'm here. In this cell."

Disbelief draped the old doctors' face. "All this time you were pretending to be your twin sister?"

"We need your help," Alex told him, ignoring the question.

Henry Thorpe looked at her with what looked almost like reluctant respect. "I…I can't help you. I'm sorry but you must know that."

"He's going to kill us if you don't help us," Alex shot back.

The old man shook his head. "No…you're wrong. Cesar Faison has no intention of killing you. He wants me to sedate you and have you taken to Moscow as soon as you are well enough to travel."

"What about me?" Robert cut in. "Has he told you anything?"

The doctor turned to him, "No…no he hasn't. But I…"

Alex glared at him. "But what?"

"He has mentioned he will no longer need my services after I take An…I mean, Alexandra back to Moscow."

Robert shivered in the chill of the room. "I have to get out of here," he told the doctor. "And I can't do it without help."

The doctor ignored him and turned back to Alex. Anger slowly replaced his shock. "Why would I help you? You just admitted your suspicions had me discharged. It's because of you then, that I'm here…cleaning up after Russia's most wanted."

"You're better than that," Alex countered.

The old man gave her a cynical smile. "Apparently not. Not according to you, Doctor Devane."

"You're not dead yet, Doctor Thorpe," Alex said slowly. "Help me get out of here, then tell me who you want to work for. I'll make it happen."

Robert watched the hesitation on the old man's face. He saw the yearning for one last shot at glory. Alex had to have known it would be an irresistible offer.

"Even if I wanted to…I can't do anything for you. I'm in no position to help you. I have no authority, no security clearance…"

"You don't," Robert cut in. "But someone else does. Faison's right hand man."

"You mean Jan Holstrom?"

"I know him only as Hans," Robert admitted. "We've only talked on the phone but I know he has a Nordic accent…that name is what, Swedish?"

The doctor looked at both of them, shifting on his feet nervously. "I don't understand…why would Jan Holstrom help you."

"Don't you worry about that," Robert muttered. "Just get him down here."

"How?"

"You tell him you know he's my informant. Threaten to divulge that fact to Faison. You watch how fast Mr. Holstrom makes his way down here."

"If…" the old man stuttered. "If I were to do all this…" He turned his stare back to Alex, shaking his head as though the absurdity of it all occurred to him just then at that very moment. "How do I know you're going to do anything for me?"

"Because I'd owe you Robert's life," she said softly. "Because I keep my word. Maybe I feel that you should have the chance to something worthy of the profession you've butchered."

"Microsens Biotechnologies," he goaded her. "With Dr. Wong's team."

Alex raised her brows, "I know Stephen Wong very well. He pioneered the potential use of pentosan polysulphate to treat vCJD thereby making the first landmark step in treating an previously untreatable illness."

Robert sensed she added the last part for his benefit.

The excitement on Doctor Thorpe's face deepened. "He's pushing to use it for intraventrical inoculation."

Alex managed a smile. "I see you've kept up."

Thorpe cut to the point. "I want to work on his team."

Alex nodded. "Fine."

"How?" the doctor prodded, "How are you going to make it happen?"

"You know that I can," she replied. "Contact me when I'm out of this hellhole, then I'll prove it to you."

"I have no way of holding you to this…" the old man hesitated.

"What the hell have you got to lose?" Robert threw in, losing his patience.

The man fingered his black medical bag nervously. It was the first genuine show of emotion Robert had seen him display.

"Let me see your arm…" he started, looking for a way to steal time to consider the offer.

Alex drew it back, briskly. "My arm will be fine once I get out of here."

"Fine," the old man replied, tightening his lips at the same as he zipped up his black bag. "I will find a way to have Jan come see you."

Robert resisted an urge to smile. Jan was the key. Jan was the only one who had the power to get them out.

The doctor left the cell as quickly and soundlessly as he had entered it and Robert watched as Alex sank back against the wall, closing her eyes.

"How did you know he'd fall all over your offer?"

"He's a researcher. It's the pull of glory. Like the pull of danger that keeps you in the WSB, I suppose."

He thought of her earlier words: 'He _will_ help us.'

All Thorpe had to know was that she had the clout to make his dreams reality.

Robert squeezed her hand. "Hey…you did good. You did_ really_ good."

"I'm scared, Robert," she said softly, looking at him with Anna's eyes. "I'm really scared."

"We're going to get out of here," he promised. "In the meantime you should try and get some real rest."

_Later_

_-_

Alex was fast asleep when the cellar creaked open for the second time that day.

Robert stared at the thin, tall man that entered the room. A pair of wire-rimmed glasses rested the man's narrow, pale nose and his spindly fingers were wrapped nervously around a Glock semi-automatic.

"At last..." Robert whispered. "You must be Jan Holstrom."


	48. Chapter 48

**Chapter 48**

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Robert Scorpio looked at the tall, spindly man that stood in front of him with contempt.

For years this man had risked his life and his career for the diamonds Robert had provided him with.

He expected someone bolder._ Tougher_.

As if his anxious gesturing wasn't unnerving enough, Jan Holstrom also had a huge, discoloured bruise that ran down the left side of his face. Robert decided the bruise wasn't the result of an accident and it made him envious for not having had the chance to inflict it himself.

"Put the damn gun down," Robert hissed. From the corner of his eye, he saw Alex waking up at the sound of his voice.

"I don't think you're in a position to make demands, Mr. Scorpio," Jan Holstrom replied. He clutched the semi-automatic with a death grip; rendering his long, thin fingers so pale they looked like tendrils of white chalk coiled around the black weapon. "I came to tell you that I can't help you. That you stop spouting meaningless threats to Doctor Thor…"

Jan Holstrom couldn't finish his sentence.

In one quick movement, Robert wrapped his hands around Jan's bony wrist and crushed it against the stone wall of the cell, sending the gun hurtling to the ground.

Before he had time to realize what happened, a kick into Jan's groin sent the Swedish man to his knees, allowing Robert to pick up the gun and hold it against Jan's Holstrom's temple.

The Swede trembled visibly now and Alex gasped as she watched the scene unfold in front of her eyes.

"Please…please…don't kill me," Jan begged.

Robert pushed the gun into Jan's temple and tightened his finger on the trigger. "Didn't I ask you nicely to put the gun down?"

"Please…"

"Why would I kill you?" Robert asked sweetly. "You're the one who's going to get me out of here."

"I can't…" Jan stammered. "My hands are tied. I can't help you."

Using the palm of his hand, Robert emptied the gun's magazine with one deft movement and tossed it in Alex's direction, sending the now useless weapon tumbling to the ground a second time.

"Get off the floor," Robert ordered, helping him along by digging his fingers into Jan's jacket and hoisting him up by his shoulders.

Without a gun pressed to his head, the Swede regained a sense of self-control and he straightened his glasses before they could slide off his thin nose.

"I know Faison wants to kill me," Robert told him. "If you don't help me get out of here before he does, the last words I'll utter will be your name. Do we understand each other, Mr. Holstrom?"

"Even if I could…"

"How many guards are outside this door?" Robert asked.

"Two."

"Then next time you come back here, bring another gun and then it'll be two for two."

"You have no idea what kind of a risk I took coming here," Jan stared at him in disbelief. "There are cameras in the hallway!"

"Then you find a way to disable them long enough for me to get out!" Robert shot back. "I'm assuming you did the same coming here."

"Even if I did…that's only the first step. There are more guards outside the estate. There is no way out without passing through the main entrance gates. There are more cameras and guards there, armed guards with trained attack dogs. And to complicate matters further, Faison is on the estate right now. Even if I somehow got you on the outside, then what? You're in the middle of nowhere! We're several hundred kilometres north of Moscow!" Jan's shook his head at the absurdity of an escape. "Don't you see? This is a fortress! There is no way out!"

"If there's a way in, then there's a way out," Robert countered. "This place is huge. It's staffed by at least two dozen employees. There must be supplies that come and go."

"No," Jan shook his head. "Only once a month is there a truck that comes in from Moscow. It brings supplies and takes staff who are on leave back to the city. Most employees only leave the estate once or twice a year. They have everything they need here."

"What about the doctor?"

"Faison has a driver who takes him to and from Moscow."

"Then get me out with him!"

"It's not pos…" Jan started, but Robert grabbed his collar and pushed him against the wall.

"_Find a way_!"

Jan's glasses threatened to slide off his face again. "I will…I will try…"

"You'll do better than try," Robert breathed into his face. "Because if you don't, you better start running now. If I die, you're next."

Jan's long fingers wrapped around Robert's wrist. "I suggest you…let me go then."

Robert released the Swede's shirt collar. "Get out."

Jan looked down at the gun lying on the floor.

"You can leave that here," Robert told him.

Jan straightened his jacket and glared at Robert, before he left in silence.

"I don't understand," Alex said, as soon as they were alone, obviously stunned. "You had a loaded gun pointed at his head, and then you let him walk out? You could have used him as a hostage!"

Robert turned to her. "I need him to get out. Without him I might've been lucky enough to take down two guards and then maybe I would've made it to the end of the basement hallway before someone would have raised an alarm."

"You keep talking about you. What about me?" Alex asked. "You're not leaving this cell without me."

Robert knelt down on the floor, beside her. "Alex…you heard what the doctor said. Faison has no intention of hurting you. He's going to take you back to Moscow. The worst thing you could do is try and escape now when you're this close to getting out." Robert ignored the look of disbelief on her face. "I have one chance to get out of here, Alex. If I blow it I'm dead, do you understand that?"

"I won't be a hindrance to you…"

"Of course you'd slow me down, you're hurt," Robert reminded her. "I can't afford that."

"I'm not staying here alone," she repeated, looking at him with Anna's determination.

Robert ran a hand along his beard. "Look, I'm not debating this with you, Alex. You're safe here. Trying to flee with me could get both of us killed."

Bitterness replaced the anger on her face. "Only this morning you promised me, we'd get out of here together."

"That was before the old doc told us that Faison had plans to release you."

"What if those plans of his change when he sees you've escaped?"

Robert frowned. Alex Marick was terrified of spending any more time in this cold, dark cell than she had to. The fear was written all over her face. It was an irrational terror that prevented her from thinking logically and for the sake of both of their lives he wasn't going to let it get to him.

"You're Anna's twin sister," Robert reassured her. "Obviously that means something to him. Even Faison's twisted mind realizes that killing you isn't going to score him any points with the object of his obsession."

Robert watched as silent tears fell down her face. Just as Anna's might have done, a lifetime ago.

"You're a coward, Robert."

The words stung him and he bit his tongue, putting both hands on her shoulders. "Alex…I wouldn't consider leaving you here if I didn't think it was the safest option for you. Faison had his chance to kill you and he didn't. He is not going to hurt you anymore."

Alex glanced down at her scarred arm. "Right…"

Looking at her arm amplified his guilt. Alex was right. There was no way of knowing how Faison would react to find him gone.

_Would he take his anger out on her?_

The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

"If it wasn't for me, Jan Holstrom might never have paid you a visit," she reminded him.

Robert frowned. For someone who barely knew him, she sure knew how to push his buttons. "This is isn't about repaying favours," he told her. "I'm trying to keep both of us alive."

"That's how it works with you, isn't it?" she accused him. "_You_ decide what's best for others. They don't have a say. At least I know what you're doing for my sake. My sister and niece didn't even get _that _courtesy."

Robert dropped his hands from her shoulders. "That was a low blow."

"You could have found another way...a way that didn't deprive my sister of a husband and Robin of a father."

"You have no idea!" Robert shouted, hating what she implied. "You have no idea what it's like to give up everything you love! Don't you dare suggest I didn't do everything in my power to make things turn out differently!"

Her expression softened and she wiped away a tear with the back of her hand. "I can't stay here, Robert…I'll go mad."

"Alex…"

"I know how to use a gun. I'm not useless. I can help you."

"Alex," he started, his voice softening. "I don't want you to die trying to flee this place."

"I can't stay here by myself…please try and understand that. I can't stay here knowing that he's going to come back for me…I_ can't!_"

Robert slumped against the wall in resignation. More than the anger and the accusation in her voice, it was the desperation that he knew he wouldn't be able to refuse.

'What else did he do to you, Alex?' he wondered. 'What else?'

"Fine," he mumbled. "Come with me. But you have to keep up. If you can't, there won't be anything I can do for you, do you understand? Are you willing to take that risk?"

Alex nodded, obvious relief spreading over her terrified face. "Yes…I am."

He looked at her sadly, his earlier anger gone. '_What else, Alex?_' he wondered, not wanting to ask the question aloud.

_Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Anna's fingers tugged at the silver buckle on the thick, black belt that was wrapped around her waist, adjusting it as her fingers deftly moved it back a notch.

It was one more reminder of the toll the past month had taken on her. All her clothes, including the grey skirt she wore now, were starting to hang loosely on her already slender frame.

'Damn it, Sean,' she thought, sitting down at the desk in her hotel room, picking up a well-worn newspaper for the fifth time. 'What the hell is taking you so long?'

She leafed through the British tabloid again, unable to read more than a few words before her mind wandered and forced her to re-read until she gave up again and flipped the page, hoping to find an article that could hold her attention for more than a few seconds.

She debated calling Robin or David. But she'd already done that. Twice. In the last three hours.

There was a knock on the door and Anna glanced in its direction, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Dimitri," she mumbled with a sigh, even though she couldn't see who it was. 'Who else would it be?' she thought. It definitely wasn't a hotel maid of that she was certain. Housekeeping consisted of a one surly blonde woman who came to clean her room only when Anna happened to catch her in the hallway and then bribed her to replace the towels and change the garbage.

Knowing it was Dimitri Marick outside didn't make her want to get up and answer the door.

'What's the point?' she thought glumly. 'So he can toss more questions at me that I can't answer?'

Anna waited for the louder knock that she knew would follow.

When it thundered against the cheap wooden door, as expected, Anna slowly made her way to open it.

"Dimitri," she said, making an effort to throw some hospitality into her voice.

"Any news?" he asked.

Anna shook her head. "Not yet."

She observed him standing in the doorway, noticing for the first time that his clothing also looked like it was a size too big for him. 'You've lost weight too,' she thought sadly, feeling her irritation at his presence subside.

He didn't move from her doorway.

"I'll let you know as soon as I hear from Sean," she told him for what must have been the tenth time in two days. Dimitri wasn't wearing a suit today. Instead he wore a striped shirt and a light nylon jacket draped it.

"Sean will call you on your cell, won't he?" he asked.

Anna nodded.

"Andrei and I are going to get something to eat," he mumbled. "Why don't you join us?"

Anna raised her eyebrows, thrown off by the invitation. 'Andrei's idea,' she decided. 'Your son must have adopted my sister's skills for making you do things against your will, Dimitri.'

Anna shook her head, knowing a yes was the last answer Dimitri wanted to hear. That was fine with her. She'd gladly give him an easy out.

"Thanks, but I think I'll stay here."

Dimitri still didn't budge from the doorway.

"Look, you've been cooped up in here all day," he pointed out. "And it's not as though this place has room service."

"Bring me back something then," she offered.

"Andrei wants you to join us," he insisted, his refined features unreadable. It was the one thing about Dimitri Marick that never failed to irritate her. That well practised restraint that never quite allowed her to scratch the surface of who he was underneath.

"But you don't," she said, not hiding her sarcasm. "And contrary to what you think, I'm really not out to make your life miserable, so please give Andrei my regrets."

"Anna…" Dimitri reached out to touch her forearm, allowing her a glimpse of the fatigue that weighed him down. "Would you just join us?"

The resignation in his voice made her feel guilty.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "Look, I shouldn't have said what I said…"

"Why?" His handsome face almost pulled off a smile. "It's the truth. We don't like each other. Why apologize for saying it? But in the end, you're still Alex's sister. She loves you. Whether I think you're a danger to her doesn't matter, does it? She's proven that. Over and over again."

Anna wondered whether he expected an answer. Or maybe an argument in her defense.

His almond-shaped eyes levelled with hers. "Do you think for her sake we can manage to have a meal together?"

Never had an invitation sounded so much like a challenge and a guilt trip all rolled into one.

"Yes, of course," she replied. Dimitri's unexpected frankness was gone and his gaze was unreadable once again. "Give me five minutes and I'll meet you and Andrei downstairs."

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow_

_-_

Jan Holstrom paced the room, his steps unable to keep up with his wild intake of breath.

_How had everything gone so terribly wrong?_

It seemed so simple when Robert had first approached him all these years ago.

Money in the form of diamonds in exchange for assuring that Cesar Faison was keeping his word and staying away from Anna Devane.

Faison had honoured the deal for years, Jan didn't think it would ever change.

Robert would give him the means to purchase some of the world's most beautiful works of art and all Jan had to do for it was something he was already doing. He had to keep a close eye on his boss.

He hadn't meant for it to be an act of betrayal.

Hadn't meant to risk his life.

Jan loosened his tie, afraid that if he didn't, it might choke him. 'If only Faison had stayed away from Anna, none of this would have happened,' he thought bitterly.

'If only I had known that all the diamonds in the world couldn't give me the satisfaction I craved…'

He couldn't blame it all on Faison. His own greed too was to blame. And so was his inability to take the risks needed to break free from Faison.

'I learned too late that having masterpieces hanging on my wall means nothing if I have to fear for my life each time I close my eyes.'

'I learned too late that you can't escape Cesar Faison…'

Anna Devane had learned that lesson long ago. Now it was his turn.

Jan kept pacing, scratching his forehead with his fingernails.

'It's too late for regrets now,' he scolded himself. He had to find a way to free Robert without implicating himself. Tonight.

He paced.

'There has to be a way,' he thought, his analytical mind racing. 'There must be.'

His life depended on it.

_Moscow, Russia_

_-_

"Are you not hungry?" Andrei asked Anna, cocking his head to the side as he eyed her plate of pasta.

Anna took a stab at a penne noodle with her fork, brushing off a truffle. "Not really, no."

The restaurant was lavish and crowded with noisy diners that were dressed as though they were in competition with the decor.

Ornate, crystal chandeliers hung from the hand-painted ceiling and thick, satin curtains framed deep, bay windows. Persian rugs dotted the floors and, with a few glances, Anna decided the room would have better suited the Tsars of Imperial Russia than the designer suit-clad _biznesmen_ dining here now. She wondered how Dimitri had found this place, and, even more so, how he managed to procure them a table. Anna had watched the maitre d' turn away dozens of well-dressed Muscovites while they ordered.

"I can eat yours, if you want," Andrei offered, before catching Dimitri's glare. "That is…if, if you don't want it. If you are not hungry," he added, backtracking.

Andrei straightened his back and returned to attack the steak on his plate.

"I love steak," he added with a burp. "It is my favourite. I never had one before. In Romania."

Anna watched as Dimitri shot him another glare across the table.

Andrei blushed. "Excuse me."

"Fork in your left hand," Dimitri mumbled between bites.

Anna observed Andrei switch his silver utensils in front of Dimitri's nod of approval, before taking another stab at the meat.

'God, you must have your hands full with these two, sis,' Anna thought with a smirk. The unspoken glances between them made her feel like an intruder and she wished Alex were sitting here in her place.

'You should be here, Alex. This is your family. Not mine.'

Sitting between the two Maricks made her realize just how foreign her sister's world was to her.

'How in the world did you feel when Dimitri came home with Andrei. Crazy, unpredictable, teenage Andrei instead of the baby you expected?'

Anna barely remembered her sister's adoption. So consumed had she been with her own chaotic life. With her pregnancy. With Robin's illness. She'd barely spent five minutes on the phone to see how Andrei's adoption had turned out.

'And yet when Robin was ill, you were the first person to rush to my side…'

Her sister meant the world to these two men and Anna barely knew either of them.

'Being with them makes me feel like I barely know you, big sis.'

"I like steak too," she told Andrei, trying to break the uncomfortable silence.

Andrei held out a piece for her. "Do you want some of mine then? Maybe you like it better than your pasta."

Anna caught a chuckle coming from Dimitri's unreadable face.

Andrei plopped a piece of meat down on her plate. "Alex doesn't mind when I share with her. She is like me. She likes to try everything." Andrei looked in Dimitri's direction. "Right?"

"Right," Dimitri mumbled.

Anna smiled. Like her sister, Andrei brought out something in Dimitri Marick that she didn't think existed. The two of them somehow made him human, she realized.

"Well then, I insist you have some of my pasta," Anna added, lifting her plate to drop some into Andrei's.

Andrei smiled. "It looks very good."

"Tell me about your horse," Anna asked, pushing around the remaining pasta on her plate.

A waiter, wearing a white shirt and black bow tie, came by to silently refill the water in her glass and the wine in Dimitri's.

"Tempus Fugit is the most beautiful horse in the world," Andrei told her, without a hint of humility. "One day he will be the fastest."

"You must miss him," Anna prompted.

Andrei lowered his eyes. His face suddenly serious and instead of answering her question, he turned to Dimitri. "Dimitri, do you think Alex misses Tempus?"

"I think…" Dimitri said softly, wiping his mouth with the white, cloth napkin. "I think she misses you. Not Tempus."

Andrei set down his knife and fork, and Anna saw his grey eyes water.

"I have to go to the bathroom," he announced before getting up to leave the table.

Anna cringed and she looked at Dimitri. "Do you want me to go after him?"

Dimitri shook his head. "He's embarrassed. He doesn't want to cry in front of you."

"Maybe you should go after him," Anna suggested.

"No," Dimitri said, setting down his napkin. "That would embarrass him even more."

"You know him well."

"Oh, I don't know," Dimitri shrugged.

"He's adapted well since the adoption."

Dimitri smiled. "You might not have said that a year ago. He tried to run away three times after we brought him to Vadsel. Once right after he stole a diamond bracelet from one of his teachers."

Anna's eyes widened. "I had no idea…"

"Andrei's had a rough childhood," Dimitri explained. "For a while there, Alex and I doubted we'd get through to him." Dimitri chuckled. "One of my cousins suggested we lock up the family jewels."

"Alex never told…"

"Alex always thought you had enough to deal with as it was," Dimitri told her. It wasn't an accusation. He was stating the facts.

Anna bit her lip. "When did things change?"

Dimitri paused, weighing the question. "Gradually, I suppose. We read a lot of child psychology books. And these…" he pointed to the strands of white that peppered his jet black hair. "These weren't there before Andrei." He put down his knife and fork, leaving his meal half finished. "We let him know we loved him," he added, his dark eyes vaguely amused. "Even at times when we probably didn't."

Anna said nothing, afraid that saying something might halt the unexpected glimpse in to her sister's life.

"Andrei's mother was a gypsy. A horse trader," Dimitri told Anna, reaching into his jacket pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes. "I think she was an exceptional rider, and horses are Andrei's Achilles heel. He worshipped his mother, and, deep down I think he felt she gave him up because she was too good for him. That he wasn't good enough for her."

Dimitri lit a cigarette, blowing the smoke away from her. "Alex isn't just a good rider, Anna. She has a gift for handling the animals. When Andrei realized that, it changed something. If Alex could love him _and_ match his mother's skills on a horse, it made him realize that maybe his mother was wrong to leave him. It gave him something he needed desperately. It gave him confidence." Dimitri eyed her, as if encouraged by her silence. "Knowing that, made us think that it was fate that he ended up with us, even if Andrei had to find a way to respect us, before he could love us. But then…" he dabbed his cigarette's dangling ashes into the table's ashtray and smiled. "It's not hard to love Alex."

Anna spotted Andrei heading back to the table, and she picked up her glass of water to take a sip. Her eyes caught Dimitri's. "Thank you," she said softly. "For sharing that with me."

Andrei barely sat down, when Anna's cell phone rang.

A passing waiter rolled his eyes in annoyance.

Anna ignored him and flipped it open.

"Yes…?"

Two pairs of eyes were glued to her reaction.

Anna's heart skipped a beat listening to Sean on the other end.

She took a deep breath after she hung up.

"Well?" Dimitri asked.

"That was Sean. He's on his way back to Moscow with Sandrine. We have a location. An old estate that once belonged to Tsar Nicholas. It's several hundred kilometres north of Moscow."

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow_

_-_

Jan Holstrom opened the cell door with a thud.

"You have ten minutes…" he spat out breathlessly, holding a gun in his hand. His normally well coiffed hair was a mess.

Robert and Alex stared at him.

"Ten minutes to do what?" Robert demanded.

"Ten minutes to get into the trunk of Thorpe's car and leave the grounds of the estate!"

"You disabled the cameras?"

"Not disabled," Jan explained. "They've been set to do a ten minute auto loop, meaning that for ten minutes the footage they show down here is repeated."

"What about the guards?" Robert asked, his adrenaline surging. This was happening much too fast. It gave him no time to think and plan for a single miscalculation.

"The guards are dead."

Alex gasped in shock. "You killed the guards?"

Jan frowned as he waved his handgun in the air. "Look, I don't have time for explanations. I couldn't have any witnesses…"

"I need you to explain where the hell we're going once we're outside the door!" Robert interrupted, wondering how it was possible that Jan Holstrom alone killed two armed guards. 'Survival,' he thought, staring at the thin, nervous man. 'The need for survival gives you skills you never knew you had.'

"You run down to your right, go through the door at the end, where an unlit staircase will take you two floors up and bring you to a door that leads outside, to the back of the estate."

"And once we're out?"

"You keep going, to your left…it will bring you to where Thorpe's car is waiting outside. The trunk has been left open, for you to get in." Jan tossed him a handgun. "This is for you, just in case."

"What about the driver?" Robert demanded. "Where will he be?"

"Inside, with the doctor."

"I don't like this…" Robert tensed. There was too much that could go wrong. What if someone spotted them outside the estate grounds? Cameras? Guard dogs?

What if the driver noticed the extra weight in the trunk? Or worse…what if Thorpe didn't stall him long enough for them to get into the car? If they were discovered while still within the estate grounds they didn't stand a chance.

"Then what? We ride to Moscow in the trunk?" Robert couldn't imagine how Alex would cope if that were the case. At least they would travel at night, rather than in the heat of the day.

"Well, yes, obviously," Jan answered. "What are you waiting for!" Jan yelled in disbelief, pointing at his watch. "We have ten minutes! This is it! There is no second chance!"

Robert glanced at Alex, who stared at him in shock.

He grabbed her hand and helped her up, forcing his mind to stop thinking. Forcing his gaze away from the hysterical Swede.

It was too late to think.

Robert pushed open the steel door and, for the first time in weeks, he stepped outside the cell. He didn't look at the two dead men lying in the hall. Instead he glanced at Alex who was right behind him, and gave her a nod.

His hand tightened on the gun.

And he ran.


	49. Chapter 49

**Chapter 49 **

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow_

_-_

At first, everything went so smoothly Robert couldn't believe his luck.

The black Mercedes was parked in the back of the estate, exactly where Jan told them it would be. The trunk was empty and unlocked, just as he'd promised.

When he reached the car, Robert opened the trunk, catching his breath after the sprint up from the cellar, his eyes darting around the estate, as he helped Alex into the small, crammed space.

If they made it outside the estate without incident, the next six hours or so would be a gruelling, nauseating ride.

After a final nervous glance around him, Robert jumped in beside Alex, forcing her to squeeze deeper into the dark, airless trunk.

Once inside, he slammed the trunk door shut, leaving them in total darkness. He would have preferred to keep it open, but he knew the Mercedes' trunk light would indicate it if he did. He hated to think what would happen if the driver decided to stop the car and jump out to slam it shut it manually.

Alex groaned and when Robert felt her face next to his, he saw that he had pressed down on her injured arm.

"Can you turn around?" he whispered.

Alex didn't answer, but he felt her body squirm until her back was nestled against him, like two lovers spooning.

"Better?" he asked.

"I'm scared, Robert…" Her voice was a whisper. "I can't breathe in here. It's so dark and tight… "

He squeezed her shoulder. "Close your eyes and don't think about it. You know there's enough air here for us."

Robert rubbed her arm reassuringly. Her skin felt warm and moist against his.

"It's almost over," he whispered. "A few more hours and it'll all be over."

_Moscow, Russia_

_-_

They were back at the hotel, in Dimitri's room. The calm, elegant dinner they had only a couple of hours ago replaced by a flurry of activity.

Anna paced the room with her cell phone. "We don't have two days, damn it! You know that better than anyone, Dan! I need a team within 24 hours!"

"Why are you bothering with Dan O'Toole?" Dimitri demanded, raising his arms into the air as he cut into her conversation. "He's a useless coward. He left Russia with his tail between his legs."

Anna turned her back to him, resuming her argument with Dan while pressing a hand against her ear to drown out Dimitri's voice. It was a futile effort.

"I don't understand why we're not going to the police!"

"And tell them what?" Anna shot back angrily, after slamming her cell phone shut. "That we suspect a kidnapped woman, whose kidnapping was never reported, is up in the backwoods of Russia? What if they ask how we obtained that information?" Anna glared at him. "Are you really that naïve to think they'd send up a squad of cops to rescue Alex based on _that_? They'd arrest _you_ first!"

"What if the info that Sean got in St. Petersburg has been relayed to Faison by now?" Dimitri demanded, unaffected by her outburst. "What if he knows we're on to him? He'll be long gone before we get anywhere near his estate! Why are we wasting time here instead of making our way up there?"

Anna stood her ground. Seething. "Because…we are Alex's only chance. You think Faison's alone up there? Running up there on our own and getting ourselves killed is not my idea of getting Alex out!"

"Watching you make pointless phone calls isn't helping her either," Dimitri shot back. "And for what? So you can assemble another 'team'?" He snorted. "Like the one that was supposed to protect Alex on that bridge in Paris?"

Anna ignored the jab. "We can't do this without help," she repeated icily. "Try and get that through your thick skull."

"After all these weeks, we_ finally_ find my wife," Dimitri's eyes narrowed. "I'll be damned if I sit here and wait around until you tell me it's okay to make our move!" He tossed his hands in the air in frustration, giving her a final glare before turning his back and leaving the room, slamming the door behind him.

Anna winced at the noise. So much for their bonding over dinner.

"Dimitri!" she yelled down the corridor after yanking the door open again, only to find him gone.

"Don't you dare do anything stupid now," she muttered under her breath, staring angrily down the empty hotel hallway.

Stepping back into the room, Anna gave in to her earlier impulse and threw her cell phone into the wall, behind her unmade bed, sending it tumbling down onto the bedspread.

"Damn you," she whispered, holding a hand against her forehead, feeling the dull throb behind her temples escalate.

She stole a glance at her silver Raymond Weil watch. 'Less than two hours,' she thought. 'Then at least I'll have two reasonable people here to back me up.'

Sean and Sandrine would land at Sheremetyevo Airport in less than an hour. Hopefully Sean's WSB influence would stretch further than hers or Dan O'Toole's. If not they would have to turn to other avenues for help.

Anna shuddered as she thought back to her meeting with Grigori Antonov at his nightclub.

'But if the Russian mafia is what it takes…' she thought grimly. 'So be it.'

Time was a luxury her sister didn't have. Whatever help they could find would need to be ready within 24 hours, despite O'Toole's claim that that was impossible.

Anna grabbed the cell phone, grateful that it was still working, and started dialling another number as she sat down on the lumpy mattress.

'As long as I can keep Dimitri from ruining it all,' she thought with a frown.

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow_

_-_

Jan Holstrom sat in the wingback chair and combed his hair. When he was satisfied he set down the mother-of-pearl comb, a hand-crafted original that once belonged to Princess Tatiana, and poured himself a glass of sherry from the decanter that stood on the table.

He took a deep sip, and then another, hoping the alcohol would steady his hands.

"I did what I could," he reminded himself sadly.

A grandfather clock ticked in the corner of the room.

Jan eyed it anxiously. In less than a minute the auto-loop would stop, redirecting the camera to film live again. Not only the auto-loop in the cellar was affected but also the one in the hallway leading to this room.

That camera would show that Jan had entered the study where he now sat, but not that he'd left it.

Once Faison found out that Scorpio had escaped, everyone inside the estate would automatically be suspect. But Jan would give Faison no reason to put him near the top of that list of suspects.

He took another sip of sherry and closed his eyes while the clock kept ticking. Irreverent and indifferent to Cesar Faison's impending rage.

_En route from St. Petersburg to Moscow_

_-_

"Here," Sandrine Mutanga said, handing him a cup of tea. Sandrine got the tea after personally walking up to the plane's galley and begging the lone, harried female flight attendant for it.

Sean hadn't asked for anything, but Sandrine decided he could use it.

His face was an odd match for her own bruised mug. A cut that resembled a large check mark ran across his left cheek, a reminder of the letter opener that Slobodyanyuk had slashed it with, during the short seconds that Sean had been caught off guard by another man entering the Russian's office.

Sandrine's mind drifted back to the night at the warehouse in St. Petersburg.

Of Slobodyanyuk's gunpoint confession. Of the fight that ensued when a stranger walked in on them. The stranger whom Sean had shot in one quick gesture, sending him sprawling to the ground, while she had held off Slobodyanyuk.

"What this?" Sean asked, accepting the tea.

Sandrine sat back down in the seat next to him. "Something warm."

Sean took a grateful sip, knowing he looked like a freak as he sipped from the paper cup with his grotesquely swollen lips.

Sandrine chuckled.

Sean raised his eyebrows.

"We look like…_ deux monstres_," she explained. "You with your red scratch and bloated lips and me with my swollen face. The little boy sitting in the aisle ahead of us cannot stop looking at us."

Sean smirked, contorting his bruised face even more. "Speak for yourself."

Sandrine sank back into the seat and sighed.

"I never thanked you," Sean mumbled taking another sip of the tea, blowing into the steaming hot cup.

"For what?"

"For not listening to me and leaving me behind when things got rough at the warehouse. It could have been a lot worse if you hadn't stuck around. I owe you one, Sandi."

A look of subtle amusement draped her face. "You are welcome, Sean. I will gladly not listen to you again."

Sean chuckled. "I bet."

"_Nous approchons la fin_," she mumbled, turning towards him, her braids cascading over her shoulders. "It is almost over now isn't it?" she asked, just as she felt the plane begin its descent towards Moscow.

Sean nodded. "I sure hope it is."

Sandrine's eyes darkened as her mind went back to the wounded men they'd left behind in the warehouse. 'Please don't make it be all for nothing…' she thought.

"You're worried about your partner, aren't you?" Sean prodded.

"I am scared of what we will find," she admitted.

Robert could be dead. It was a reality she had to face, as much as her heart and mind rebelled against it. 'I can't imagine a world without you in it, Robert,' she realized. She could even stand the thought of him choosing Anna over her, as long as it meant he was still alive. As long as it meant she could see his face again. 'I love you so much,' she thought sadly. 'What a beautiful, terrible thing to feel.'

Sandrine felt Sean's hand on hers.

"Hey, for what it's worth," he said softly. "Your partner's a lucky guy."

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow_

_-_

Robert felt the car's suspension drop with the added weight of two more men getting in. Then he heard two doors slamming shut, followed by the noise of the engine roaring to life.

Although the Mercedes' engine was smooth compared to the Zil limousines that used to carry around the country's politicians, here in the trunk, it sounded louder than Robert imagined it would.

"They're in," he whispered into Alex's ear. "Now we just have to get through the gates…"

He held on to her as the ride on the estate's gravel road tossed them around. Robert gritted his teeth. The jerky movements reminded him that his bullet wound still hadn't fully healed.

The ride would get smoother once they left the estate, but not by much. Although the road travelling south to Moscow was paved once they left the environs of the estate, it was also poorly maintained, as he'd discovered on the way up. It was full of potholes and detours that weren't much better than the road they were on now.

He should have thought to bring along a bottle of water. Or the blanket. Or at least the pain pills the old doctor had brought them, for Alex.

But there hadn't been time.

Robert felt the car slow down as it approached the gates of the estate.

His entire body tensed when it came to a complete stop.

'Maybe there's no point in worrying about what I should have brought along,' he thought glumly. Alex was motionless next to him.

If the checkpoint guards decided to open the trunk they were as good as dead. Or if Faison had already found the dead men in the cellar, he would have sealed the exit.

'Or if the guards sense that the old Doc is nervous about something and decide to ask him some questions…'

If they didn't make it past the gate, it was over.

Robert's heart pounded so hard he thought the guards standing outside must be able to hear it, just as he could hear their voices after the driver rolled down the window.

The voices spoke in Russian and the car stood still for what seemed like an eternity, until finally Robert heard the creaking of iron doors open and the engine roared back into life. The car sped away.

An impossibly heavy weight lifted from his shoulder.

Robert took a deep, relieved breath, his lips widening into a giddy smile.

"We did it," he whispered to Alex. "We're out."

No matter how gruelling the trip, Robert knew they would endure it.

They were almost free.

He allowed himself to relax as the car drove on, enough so that after twenty minutes or so, in spite of the constant bumps, he was lulled into a semi-sleep.

Then suddenly, the car stopped.

_Alexei Estate_

_-_

Cesar Faison was livid.

The anger coursed through him like jolts of electricity, convulsing his body with tiny uncontrollable quivers when he spoke.

He stood in the basement corridor where the two dead guards were still lying on the floor; atop two neat puddles of bright, red blood.

"Check the cameras!"

"Seal the parameters!"

"Tell every guard to shoot to kill!"

_"Now!"_

The orders spewed from Faison's lips, leaving his director of security no choice but to wait until he was finished before daring to interrupt.

Faison's struggle to rein in his rage was so great it felt as though he was fighting against a physical force infinitely stronger than he was.

"_How_?" he hissed to the speechless Russian. "How is it possible that Robert Scorpio got out from inside his cell, killed two guards _and _ran off with a woman who can barely walk?"

"He had to have had help…" the Russian managed. The bulky, normally unflappable man was visibly agitated.

Faison clenched his fists and got a brief, tenuous hold of his anger, giving his mind a chance to focus. "Did anyone leave the estate in the last two hours?"

"Only the doctor and his driver," the Russian told him. "He left less than half an hour ago."

Faison's eyes widened. "Radio him! Make him turn around right away and in the meantime get a car out to follow him!"

If the doctor's car didn't obey the order he would know exactly where Robert Scorpio was. There was only one road leading out of the estate. If Scorpio was in that car, there was still a possibility of catching them.

"And get Jan Holstrom in here!" Faison yelled in response to the Russian's silence. "_Now!"_

_Several miles south of Alexei Estate_

_-_

"What are you doing?" Doctor Thorpe asked his young driver in Russian. The Mercedes had come to a stop in the middle of the badly paved road, flanked by thick, coniferous trees on both sides. There was no hint of any other traffic as far as the eye could see. The road was a lonely, desolate line, snaking through an endless forest. "Is there a problem?"

The driver's eyes met Thorpe's via the rear-view mirror. "I received a call from the estate. I have been ordered to turn back."

Thorpe's heart jumped. "What? Why…why do you have to turn back?"

The driver shrugged, steering into a three-point turn. "They didn't say. It was a direct order."

The Englishman leaned forward in his seat, his face paling. "You can't do that," he said. "Antonov is expecting me in Moscow."

"I'm sorry, doctor but…"

"No buts!" Thorpe protested. "If I don't make it to Moscow on time, Antonov will have a fit!"

But the Mercedes had already turned around and was about to head back in the direction of Alexei Estate.

"Did you hear me?!" the doctor yelled. "You will not turn back! You can consider that an order!"

The driver stopped the car, and turned to face him. "I'm sorry, sir, but I have no choice. The order came from Faison himself."

Thorpe panicked.

If the car went back with Scorpio and Alex inside, he was an automatic accomplice.

Faison would kill him before he even had a chance to defend himself.

Thorpe yanked open the backseat door and jumped outside.

"Hey…what are you doing?" the driver demanded, shocked by his actions. Like all of Faison's guards, the young Russian was armed and his right hand now clutched his handgun.

"Get back inside the car!" the driver ordered him, suspicious now.

The old Englishman shook his head. "No. We are not going back to the estate."

"Get in the car!" the driver repeated, pointing the gun at him.

"You don't understand," Thorpe told him. He was standing outside next to the driver's window, now rolled down. "I _have_ to go to Moscow tonight! Grigori Antonov is not someone you keep waiting."

"_Get in the car!"_ the Russian repeated, his gun aimed straight at Thorpe.

The Englishman's knees started to shake.

If he got back in the car, the driver would activate the bulletproof partition between himself and the back seat. Thorpe would be trapped, no less so than Robert and Alex were, until he got back to the estate.

He shook his head and started to walk away. "No…"

The driver jumped out of the car and tried to shove him into the backseat, but fear gave the old doctor formidable strength and he was able to free himself from the driver's grasp.

As soon as he did, Thorpe started running, down the lone country road.

"Stop or I will shoot!" the driver shouted behind him.

Thorpe ignored the young man's warning and kept moving. He figured it was an idle threat.

The driver wouldn't dare shoot him.

The Englishman did know one thing. He had to get away from this car and to back to Moscow. There he had contacts there that could get him out of the country. That could protect him from Faison's wrath.

If he had to walk hours to the nearest farm to do it, then so be it.

He heard the driver yell a second warning while Henry Thorpe cursed himself for his ambition.

"Damn you, Alexandra Devane!" he cursed under his heavy breath. "Damn you for destroying my career a second time."

It was his last thought before the first of two bullets ripped through his back.

_Moscow, Russia_

_-_

As soon as she saw the two of them enter the hotel lobby, Anna jumped to drape her arms around Sean Donely in a bear hug.

"I'm so glad you're back," she told him. It was an understatement. His presence instantly lightened the weight on her shoulders.

She frowned when she saw his bloated lips and the red check-mark scar that ran diagonally across his face. "What happened?"

He returned her hug with a grin, his larger frame enveloping her. "You should see the other guy."

Anna grimaced. "Not funny."

Sean laughed. "It could've been a lot worse, if Sandi hadn't stepped in and helped me out."

Anna turned to Sandrine, who was standing behind him and offered her a smile. "That's his way of saying I was right to insist you stick with us."

Sandrine acknowledged her gratitude. "I'm glad we got the information, Anna."

Sean's grin faded and he turned to Anna, motioning for both of them to head up to their rooms. "Have you had any luck putting together a team to help us out?"

"Not much," Anna admitted as she pushed open the door of the stairwell, knowing it would take less time to climb the six flights than to wait for the lone elevator that serviced the entire property. "I called O'Toole hoping he could accomplish more from the offices of Interpol than I can from Moscow, but he says it'll take at least two days."

Sean grunted as he climbed the narrow staircase, followed by Sandrine. "Dan knows damn well we don't have that kind of time."

"We may have to use Antonov…" Anna started.

Sean shook his head. "No…let me make some calls before we go that route."

"I want us to head to Alexei Estate by tomorrow, in case Faison's been alerted to what you did in St. Petersburg," Anna told him.

"What about Dimitri?" Sandrine asked from behind.

"He's ready to run up there single-handedly," Anna told her. "When he's not busy threatening to go to the police."

"Idiot," Sean muttered under his breath, pushing open the door that led to the third floor where all their rooms were.

"You can't blame him, Sean," Anna told him, holding open the door for Sandrine. "That's his wife up there."

"And your sister," Sean reminded her, his bloated lips protesting against the effort of speech. "You're as much of a mess about this as he is but you're still able to think rationally."

Anna thought back to the Auberge in Paris and to her violent confrontation with Jan Holstrom. "I don't know about that…"

Sean opened the door to his room while Anna and Sandrine watched. "I want to be there by tomorrow too," he said, pausing, "But not without back-up. Because if Alex is still in that estate, we owe her a professional rescue effort."

_South of Alexei Estate_

_-_

Alex gasped.

"Did you hear that?" she whispered.

"That was a gunshot," Robert confirmed. The darkness that blanketed them in the car's trunk was so thick he could barely make out the back of Alex's head.

Both of them had heard the car's doors open and the driver yelling outside.

"Oh god," Alex whispered. "He must have shot Thorpe!"

Robert felt her body tense. "We don't know that."

"He's turned the car around. What if…what if he takes it back to the estate?"

Robert held on to her. "Don't think that."

"We're trapped in here!"

Her breathing was rapid and Robert felt a surging panic of his own. Alex was right. The trunk was shut and they couldn't open it from inside. They were sitting ducks.

'Think…' His mind raced in the darkness. If the car started moving again he would have to find a way to open the trunk.

As if in response to his thought, the trunk suddenly popped open on its own, and as Robert's eyes adjusted to the night sky outside he saw a handgun aimed at both of them.

"Get out or I will shoot you!" the driver shouted, appearing as shocked to see the two of them as Robert was to see him.

Robert stared at him unmoving and saw that Alex did the same.

"I said get out!" the Russian repeated. "Leave your hands in the air while you do it!"

Robert winced as he tried to sit up. His bullet wound throbbed. His limbs were cramped and he sat up with difficulty. He watched as Alex used her arms to push herself up.

The driver banged the gun against the open trunk door. "I said show me your hands!"

"Hey…relax," Robert growled. "You're the one with the gun and we're not acrobats."

The young man didn't try to stop him when Robert helped Alex out.

"Stand up against the car," the man ordered. "Spread your legs and arms apart."

Robert frowned. Judging from the man's tone of voice it was obvious he had no idea where he was going with his orders. It was as though he'd seen a few cop shows and decided to re-enact them, not knowing what else to do with his unexpected prisoners. Had he given it a moment's intelligent thought he would have left the trunk closed and headed straight back to the estate.

Alex did as the man asked, spreading her arms and legs against the car. Out of the corner of his eye, Robert caught the young man's distraction and promptly used it to make his move.

Robert spun his body around and with the speed of momentum; he swiped his right leg underneath the driver's legs to throw him off balance.

Only he didn't fall as Robert expected. Instead, he instantly regained his balance and pulled the trigger on his gun, sending a bullet whizzing past Robert's ear.

"Shit," Robert mumbled.

"Get back!" the man yelled, waving the gun wildly in his face. "Or I will kill you too!"

With all his concentration aimed at Robert, the man didn't see Alex approach him soundlessly from behind, palming her hands together to strike the carotid artery at the base of his neck.

The blow nearly knocked him unconscious and this time the driver's knees did buckle as he fell to the ground, his gun slipping out of his fingers.

Robert used the chance to grab the weapon and placed another kick into the man's side, ensuring he stayed on the ground. The Russian groaned in pain, moving a hand to his neck.

"Nice." Robert grinned at Alex. "Glad you came along after all."

Alex's face was serious as she heard a voice come in through the driver's radio.

The voices spoke in Russian, too fast for Robert to understand.

"Do you know what they're saying?" Robert asked her, pointing the gun at the driver lying on the ground.

"I'm not sure," Alex replied. "I think they're asking for the driver to come in. Telling him back up is on the way."

Robert froze. "Damn it…"

"Get up!" he ordered the driver.

"Robert what are you doing?" Alex demanded, aghast. "You can't kill him."

"Get up and run!" Robert shouted at the Russian. He pointed the gun towards the forest that surrounded them. "Run in there! Away from the car…I swear if you don't move your sorry ass, you're a dead man."

The Russian hobbled away, gingerly at first then faster as he regained his foothold, disappearing into the thick cluster of pine trees.

"We have to get the hell out of here," he told Alex, who was leaning against the car. "We might only have ten minutes or so head start if he sent a car after us."

"Wait…" Alex protested. "What about Thorpe?"

"There's no time," Robert shook his head, grabbing her arm in an effort to coax her into the car.

"He got shot, Robert!"

Robert caught sight of the old man lying on the road ahead of them. Before he could stop her, Alex ran off in the doctor's direction, kneeling down on the gravel road, beside his body, to take his pulse.

"Is he…?"

Alex didn't have to answer. One look at her face told him Thorpe was dead.

"He's dead, Robert. Like the guards in the basement. The guards were just kids doing their job. And Thorpe was helping us only because I played on his ambitions. He had nothing to do with this. Now they're all dead…"

"Alex, look, I'm sorry but we don't have time for this." Robert slipped his arm under her uninjured one, pulling her up. "There's nothing you can do for him, sweetheart. He'll have died for nothing if they catch us now."

Tears spilled down her face and she leaned on to him, weighing him down. Even so he nudged her along and forced her to walk. It was only when they were near the brightness of the car's headlights that Robert noticed a dark red stain seeping through her pants, large enough to cover one of her thighs.

"Jesus...you're bleeding, Alex," he told her. "When did you get hurt?"

"The stitches must have opened when I got in the trunk," she mumbled.

"Stitches?" Robert frowned. "You didn't mention any stitches!" Then again, given his reluctance to take her along, he couldn't blame her for not telling him, even if it now added one more complication to their mess.

"Get in," he ordered, giving her a push into the Mercedes, stealing a glance at the road they came from, looking for approaching cars. "Put the seat down and try to keep your body level so you don't lose any more blood."

Alex sank into the seat. "Stop telling me what to do."

Robert rolled his eyes.

Seated in the driver's seat, he slammed the door shut and pressed hard on the gas, turning the car around with a screech.

_Three hours later_

_-_

Robert rubbed his eyes, not surprised when the rear-view mirror showed him that they were red and puffy.

It was the middle of the night now and aside from an occasional truck nothing had offered him a distraction from the dark, dead monotony of the lonely road they were on.

'No company is good news…' he reminded himself. He checked rear-view mirror constantly, afraid to see headlights gaining in on them. Each time he glanced back, he pressed the gas pedal a little harder, pushing the car to its limits. Thankfully the paving improved with each hour they travelled further south, and aside from the occasional jarring pothole, the ride was much smoother now.

He knew he'd have to stop the vehicle at some point, to gas it up with the canister of gasoline that was in the trunk.

He dreaded the stop, knowing it would give Faison's men a chance to advance on them.

At the same time he was exhausted and sore, and afraid that he might fall asleep at the wheel.

Next to him Alex, was frighteningly pale and quiet.

"Here," he said, handing her the thermos the driver had left behind. "Drink some of this." Robert had taken an earlier sip of it and discovered that it was a milky, lukewarm tea heavily spiked with vodka. Maybe the alcohol would dull her pain and help her sleep.

She did as he asked, setting it back down with a frown. "I see why you're not having any."

"Drink some more," he told her. "It'll help."

Alex groaned. "I told you to stop telling me what to do."

"Are you an American citizen?"

"What?"

"When we get to Moscow," he explained. "I want to take you to an embassy. It's the only place you'll be safe from Faison."

"No," she replied. "Not American."

"English?"

Alex nodded.

"Fine, well head straight to the British embassy then and have them contact your husband in Hungary. The sooner you get out of Russia the better."

"What about you?" she asked. "You're hurt. You should be in a hospital."

"Don't worry about me."

"You're going to tell Anna and Robin aren't you?" she asked, pushing up her seat to meet his eyes.

"I need time, Alex."

"Time?" she looked at him, stunned. "You've had a bloody decade!"

"It's not that simple." He had wanted Alex to talk to him, to lull him out of his fatigue, but he should have known it meant having another argument. She was infinitely more like Anna than she admitted. "I can't just barge back into their lives."

"You can't keep letting your daughter believe that you're dead!"

"Alex," Robert frowned, tightening his lips. "It's complicated. Things have changed. Anna is married. I'm engaged. I don't know if…"

"You're engaged?"

It was a lie. He wasn't. Not yet. The ring still sat in his office drawer in Kinshasa.

But the fact was, Anna had gone on with her life.

And he did love Sandrine.

Most of all, he feared that neither Anna nor Robin would ever understand his reasons. Or forgive him.

"Faison is still a threat," he told Alex, changing the subject, as he turned the car into a long, deep curve, before accelerating out of it. "More so now than ever. He could very well take out his rage on Anna and Robin. I need to take care of that threat before anything else, do you understand?"

"No," Alex said softly. "I don't understand and I certainly wouldn't understand if I were Anna."

"Please," Robert pressed. "I need you to let me do this my way. I need you to keep this secret a little while longer."

" 'A little while' ?" Alex asked. "So, you're going to tell them?"

"Yes," Robert nodded. "Of course, I'll tell them. But I want my daughter to hear it from me, not from you."

Alex said nothing, weighing his request.

"Promise me, Alex," Robert pressed.

"What if anyone asks how I got away from Faison?"

"Tell them Roger Saunders helped you."

"Your alias?"

"Yes," Robert nodded. "My WSB identity is real and can be verified."

"Anna will want to speak to Roger."

"I know," Robert admitted. "But she won't be able to."

Alex sighed as she pushed the seat back down. "So many lies, Robert. When are you going to end it?"

Robert stared into the blackness ahead. 'When Faison is dead,' he thought. 'Then it'll be over. Only then.'

_Later_

_Moscow_

_-_

They drove into Moscow at sunrise.

The relief of entering the bustling, chaotic anonymity of the city's traffic was mixed with Robert's distress at having no clue where he was headed.

It didn't help that all the street signs in the city's outskirts were in Russian and that someone's horn blared at him every few minutes.

'At least the noise is keeping me awake…' he thought.

Alex had fallen into a feverish slumber. She occasionally shivered in her seat, prompting Robert to turn on the heat, even though the temperature outside was warm and the warmth in the car only made him sleepier.

Now that he was downtown he could risk a stop at a hotel to get directions to the British embassy.

'We made it,' he thought, taking an exit ramp from the highway they'd been on the past half hour. 'We're so close.'

With the approaching morning rush hour, the city streets grew steadily busier with both vehicle and pedestrian traffic. Robert scanned the wide avenue he was on for a hotel that was large and centrally located enough to have English speaking staff, but not so exclusive that stepping inside it would draw immediate attention to his awful appearance.

When he found one with a Holiday Inn sign, he stopped the car half a block from it.

"I'm going to be back in a minute," he told Alex, stretching his cramped legs as he got out of the car. He scanned the busy surroundings, making sure he saw no one remotely suspicious.

He took a final glance back at the Mercedes, just before he was about to enter the hotel through a revolving door.

From the corner of his eyes, he could see Alex getting out of the car.

"What the hell…?" he muttered, turning back.

He ran to the Mercedes.

"Alex…what are you doing? Get back in!"

"Robert…so dizzy...I need some air."

Her face was a ghostly white.

"Alex?"

At first she seemed vaguely aware of both his presence and his irritation.

Then her eyes rolled back and her knees buckled as she fell into his arms, unconscious.


	50. Chapter 50

**Chapter 50**

_Moscow, Russia_

_-_

"Help me, damn it!" Robert yelled in English when he saw a paramedic near the hospital entrance.

Were it not for his injury and exhaustion, he might have carried Alex with ease, but as it was he held on to her with difficulty, barely able to put one foot in front of the other. It had been hard enough to helpher back into the car and find the nearest hospital when he had no idea where he was going, while worried that he might not get there soon enough.

The man looked at him and said something in Russian that Robert didn't understand.

"Please, I need help…"

Whether or not the man understood English, he reached out with thick, burly forearms to take Alex's deadweight from Robert's shaking arms, and hurried into the hospital with her.

A whirlwind of activity followed.

A nurse asked him questions as they wheeled Alex into a room. Questions he didn't understand.

"_Ya nye govoryu po russky_," he managed, trying to recall a basic vocabulary he'd learned a lifetime ago, in his WSB training. Back when the Cold War was still a reality.

"_Turistsky_?" the woman asked.

"_Da_," Robert nodded. "_Anglisky_."

With that response, the old, heavy-set nurse left and he waited until another, younger woman arrived. The noise and throng of medical staff rushing through the hallway made his head spin and he wanted to sit down. But he knew the instant he did, his exhausted body would give in to sleep.

He watched as a physician started examining Alex.

"You are husband?" the young woman asked.

"Huh?" Robert replied. His surface of his eyes felt like sandpaper. "Husband?" Then realizing what she meant, he shook his head. "No…no, I'm not her husband. She's a…friend."

"Girlfriend?" the woman attempted to clarify.

Robert tilted his head and sighed. "Sure…girlfriend."

"You have travel health insurance?" She said the last three words smoothly, as though she'd uttered them countless times before.

"Yes," Robert lied. "It's at the hotel."

The questions continued. Most of which he couldn't, and some of which he wouldn't, answer. Much to the young woman's frustration.

'How do I explain what that monster did to her?' Robert thought bitterly, after the nurse left him. 'Who would believe she would have done that to herself?'

He rubbed his eyes, trying to think.

The Mercedes. He had to get it out of the hospital parking lot. Hospitals were the first places Faison would look. The car's licence plate was like a homing beacon.

Yet getting rid of the car meant leaving Alex out of his sight and that was a risk he wasn't willing to take.

At an embassy she would have been protected but here they were both vulnerable should Faison's men find them. If Alex hadn't fainted when she did, he could have left her at an embassy and made his own way out of Russia. Now he couldn't leave her until he was certain she was safe.

'We have to get out of this hospital…' he thought, giving in to his exhaustion by plopping down on a chair in the waiting room. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see the half-open room where a nurse had taken Alex.

'Think, Robert,' he told himself. 'Think!'

They needed help.

The Moscow police was notoriously corrupt and Robert didn't doubt Faison had eyes and ears within its departments.

'Not the police,' he thought. 'But the WSB.' His own employer would help him.

Better yet...Sandrine! He had to get a hold of Sandrine.

"Excuse me." Robert felt a hand on his shoulder, interrupting his thoughts. He looked up to find a young doctor staring down at him.

"Yes?"

"My name is Dr. Krushinsky About your girlfriend…" he started. "I have to ask you more questions." His English was heavily accented.

"Is she alright?" Robert demanded.

"She was…" he searched for the word in English, and when he couldn't find it he reworded his thoughts. "We gave her blood. And fluid, for hydration." The doctor paused. "The stitches on her leg are not good work. I need the name of doctor who see her before. I need to know what happened to her arm. It is done at tattoo shop?"

Robert felt his mind wander, barely making sense of what the doctor was saying. "Is she conscious?"

"Conscious?" It took a minute for the question to register in the doctor's mind. "Yes," the doctor narrowed his brows, suddenly annoyed at the realization that he was getting questions instead of answers. "She is awake. But please answer my questions."

Robert stood up. "I'd like to see her please." There was no point in telling him something that might contradict with whatever Alex may have told him.

The doctor pointed to the room where she was, "Fine. You see her, but then you see_ me_."

Robert nodded instead of answering, conserving the little energy he had.

He stepped into the room the doctor directed him to, pulling back the curtain that was the only thing separating Alex from the bed next to her. An elderly woman flanked by two younger ones that vaguely resembled her was moaning in the bed to the right and a seemingly comatose old man lay on the left.

Robert clutched Alex's hand.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, opening a heavy eyelid. Whatever the doctor had given her obviously had a sedating effect.

"Don't be," he replied, surprised at the depth of his relief when he heard her voice.

"The embassy…?" she asked, eyelids closing again.

"We'll get there," Robert assured her. "Eventually."

"Are you okay?" she asked sleepily.

"Don't' worry about me," he told her. "I gave them a fake name," Robert added, hoping she was still alert enough to absorb the information. "Linda Smith. It's what the hospital staff might call you. Can you remember that?"

She nodded. "Easy to remember."

Robert squeezed her hand and sat in room with her until she fell asleep.

'So much for getting out of here,' he thought tiredly. It was an absurd idea, he realized. Just because Alex had convinced him she was strong enough to escape with him, didn't mean she was. She desperately needed proper medical care.

Robert glanced outside the room, waiting until the curious Russian doctor was occupied before sneaking out to a messy counter, behind which two women sat. Robert couldn't tell whether they were doctors or nurses.

"The phone…" Robert told them, using hand signals. "I need to use the phone."

The older of the two women ignored him, and the younger one gave him a barely perceptibly nod in the direction of a bank of payphones. He was accustomed to using a combination of authority and charm to make others do what he wanted, but an earlier glance into a mirror made him realize that neither were likely tools at the moment. His beard and unwashed hair made him look as authoritative as a hippie and his torn, dirty clothing made him as charming as a vagrant who hadn't showered in days.

"I don't have any money or a credit card to make a phone call!" he said with irritation, showing them his empty palms to make his point. "Please…I need to use the phone."

The older woman pursed her lips and plopped the black, plastic phone on the counter with a thud. "_Pyat minut_," she said with a frown, pointing to her watch.

'Five minutes,' Robert thought, keeping his eyes on the room where Alex was sleeping. 'That's all I need, as long as this thing lets me dial long distance…'

_Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Anna heard her cell phone ring as soon as they stepped into Sean's room.

She fished for it inside her skirt pocket and moved to the room's only window for a better reception.

"You did what?" Anna asked in astonishment, opening curtains that smelled of smoke, when she heard Dan O'Toole's excited voice on the other end. "That's fantastic!" She held a hand over the receiver, unable to hold off sharing the news with Sean and Sandrine, before her conversation with Dan was over.

"A search warrant," she mouthed. "Dan's got us an Interpol search warrant for Alexei Estate!"

Sean's bloated lips spread into a grin. "That's the best damn news I heard since landing in Moscow." An international search warrant would let them walk through the front door of the estate and search every nook and cranny, without needing the backing of local law enforcement. Granted most international organizations would have asked for it as a courtesy, they didn't _need _it. All they needed now was a small, well-trained team from the WSB or Interpol to accompany them up to the Estate. In a city like Moscow, teeming with foreign agents, it was a team that Sean knew he could assemble within the span of hours.

Sandrine sat down her travel bag, observing him with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. They were so close now. Yet, as anxious as she was, she was terrified at the same time, terrified of what they might find.

Shivering despite the warmth in the room, Sandrine wrapped her arms around herself, wishing she could turn back time.

A phone rang just as her mind started wandering.

Anna eyed the two of them. "Sean, is that your cell?"

Sean shook his head. "Not mine."

It was only when it rang for the third time that Sandrine recognized the sound as that of her own cell phone. Aside from her sister's occasional calls, it rarely rang, and she had almost forgotten into which pocket of her bag she had stuffed it.

Her long arm reached into her purse, pulling it out after the fourth ring.

She held it against her ear while Sean and Anna watched.

"_Allo_?"

"Sandi, is that you?"

Sandrine almost dropped the phone.

Her heart plummeted into her stomach.

"Robert…" she stammered. It couldn't be. It couldn't be his voice.

_Could it?_

Sandrine shivered when she felt Anna's hand on her arm.

"Are you okay?" Anna asked her, her dark eyes a mix of curiosity and concern.

Sandrine caught her breath, her shock replaced with a sudden fear that Robert might have heard Anna's voice. "I…please… excuse me," she said to Anna, heading for the hotel room's door. "It is my brother…Robert. He is…he is not well."

Sandrine almost tripped on her way out.

Anna raised her eyebrows when she was out of sight. "Okay, _what_ was that all about?"

Sean frowned. "Beats me. But why do I suddenly feel the need to do a background check to see whether she actually has a brother named Robert?"

Anna rolled her eyes. "That's not what I meant. She was so shaken after she picked up the phone. Did you see how the colour drained from her face?" Anna turned to Sean. "She hasn't mentioned anything about a sick brother before has she?"

"No. Not once. In fact, she hasn't mentioned a brother period."

"Hmm," Anna shrugged her shoulders. "I hope it's nothing serious."

Annoyance lined Sean's face. "Why is it that every time I start to trust that woman she does something that makes me doubt her all over again?"

"I thought you said she saved your life in St. Petersburg?"

"She did."

"Then leave it that. We don't have time for doubts now."

Sean's frown deepened as he rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand, stifling a yawn. "You're right. We don't."

_Russian State Hospital #18, Moscow_

_-_

A surge of adrenaline rushed through him at the sound of her voice.

Robert grinned. Hearing her voice made him realize just how much he had missed it.

"Sandi…"

"Robert…Robert…is it really you?" She said his name the way she always did. In French, making it sound like '_rowbear'._

Robert laughed, delirious, pressing the receiver against his ear, in spite of the nasty look it elicited from one of the nurses. "Yes, yes, it really is, sweetheart. You have no idea how glad I am to hear your voice."

Her voice cracked on the other end and she started crying.

"Sandi, sweetheart, I don't have much time to talk…" There were a dozen questions he wanted to ask her, beginning with her failure to show up at the estate. "I need your help right away. I'm in Moscow with Alex."

Sandrine struggled to regain her voice, "Robert, where in Moscow?"

"Faison is still after us. We need protection."

Her voice was anxious now. "Robert, where in Moscow are you?"

"At some hospital…I'll get you the name or number, or whatever."

"I'm in Moscow too!"

Robert didn't think he heard right. "You're…in Moscow? I don't understand...then why…why did you never reach me at the Estate? I couriered you the exact co-ordinates!"

"No," there was a pause at the other end. "_J'ai rien recu_."

"You what?"

"Robert, it doesn't matter now. Tell me where you are!"

"Wait…let me get the location from the nurses."

"Robert," Sandrine interrupted him breathlessly. "I'm not here alone."

"What do you mean?"

"When I didn't hear from you, I left the DRC and went to France. To Paris."

Robert frowned not understanding. "Why, Sandi?"

"Because I knew that Robin would be looking for her mother."

'Oh God…' Robert thought, knowing what she would say next.

"Robert, I found Anna," Sandrine said softly. "And Sean."

Robert felt his knees give in; his earlier adrenaline rush replaced by an exhaustion even more profound than it was a few hours ago. "You told them."

"No!" she shot back. "I didn't tell them anything! I would never do that to you." She paused. "Or to your daughter."

Robert clenched the phone, trying to move it away from the nurses' counter. Sandrine's decision made sense. She wouldn't tell Robin her father was alive, when she wasn't sure that he still was. "What did you…?" he started.

"I told them I was looking for my partner. For Roger Saunders."

Robert breathed a sigh of relief. Sean could've run a background check on Roger Saunders and everything would have checked out. Even the lack of a photo wouldn't have surprised Donely. Given Saunders' rank and his frequent undercover work, the need for extreme discretion would not be questioned.

Sean. Anna.

They were here. In Moscow.

"Robert, tell me where you are," Sandrine pressed.

Robert swallowed. "I need your help Sandi, but I'm not ready…I'm not ready to see Anna or Sean…not yet."

"It's alright, I understand." Sandrine calmed him. "I will make sure they don't follow me, but tell me where you are!"

Robert snatched a file folder from the desk when he saw the nurses leave. Opening it he found a form with the hospital's name and address stamped in the corner. He could make out the Cyrillic writing just enough to decipher the address and pass it on to Sandrine.

"Robert…what about Alex? How is she?"

Glancing in the direction of the room where she slept, Robert weighed his answer. "Her injuries aren't life threatening."

"I'm glad." Robert thought he heard relief in Sandrine's voice. "It has been hard for Anna. She has been very afraid for her sister."

Listening to Sandrine speak about Anna sounded surreal, like two parallel words colliding. Past and present were merging into one impossible entity.

"Please keep yourself safe," she told him. "I will be there as soon as I can."

"I love you," he said softly.

She held back a sob. "I missed you, Robert. I missed you so much."

_Moscow_

_-_

Sandrine Mutanga's hands were shaking when the phone call ended.

Not just her hands, but her entire body. Sandrine realized that she stood in the middle of the hotel hallway, where she had remained after rushing out of Sean's room.

Sandrine followed the red sign she assumed was an exit, and pushed open the door finding a dim staircase behind it, one whose handrails were covered in a thin layer of dust. Sandrine sat down on a flight of stairs, holding the cell phone against her lips.

Robert was alive.

Alive. The knowledge filled her with such relief she wanted to weep and laugh all at once. 'You're not dead,' she thought gratefully, as a torrent of emotions ran through her.

Once she stopped fighting them, Sandrine held a hand against her face and wept.

"Alive."

It didn't sink in yet. The sheer enormity of it all.

The man only man she ever loved was here. In Moscow.

He said loved her too and for a moment the world was a wonderful, beautiful place.

With the back of her hand, Sandrine wiped a tear from her cheek and laughed. Robert was alive. _Her_ Robert.

She wanted nothing more than to run to the hospital this instant so she could wrap her arms around him.

Sandrine's smile faded. Robert being alive was the only thing that should have mattered. And yet it wasn't.

She couldn't run to him and pretend that nothing had changed since he left Africa.

"Just because you're not ready to see Anna, doesn't mean she won't find out about you. After all, if Alex is with you then she knows and she will tell her sister."

What then?

Sandrine's face darkened as she stared at the peeling paint on the walls of the staircase. As much as the fear of losing him all over again nagged her, there was no time to worry about "what ifs."

'If Robert escaped from Faison then he is still in danger. And so is Alex.'

Sandrine thought of Anna and Sean a few doors down the hall. As soon as they assembled a team, they would head north to Alexei Estate. When in fact Alex was right here in Moscow.

Sandrine cringed. Keeping that from them, and, especially, from Dimitri and Andrei, was neither fair nor kind. But she had told Robert she would come alone, and she'd honour that promise.

'Maybe in a few hours, after I reach Robert, and once I know more, I can call them and stop them from heading north.'

For now she'd let them continue with the pointless task of trying to assemble a team of operatives to help them storm Faison's estate.

She stood up with shaky legs and clutched her purse, grateful that she hadn't left it in Sean's room. She decided against opening the door of the stairwell to see whether Anna or Sean might be in the hallway. Instead, she started running down the stairs, looking for the hotel's rear exit.

_Moscow, State Hospital #18_

_-_

He came into focus slowly.

First she saw his outline. He was tall. Thin.

Colours followed shape, blending into an increasingly defined image.

It was a doctor, wearing a white lab coat.

As her eyes focused further, she could make out his Slavic features and the old-fashioned clipboard he held in his hands. Hands with long fingers, one of which bore a thick, gold wedding band.

"How you are feeling?" the doctor asked, his English heavily accented.

She was in a hospital. A hospital in Russia.

Moscow.

She stared at him, letting the memories flood back.

The escape from the estate, in the trunk of the car. Doctor Thorpe's death. Driving into Moscow with Robert.

Stepping out of the Mercedes just before the world turned black.

"Do you understand me?" the man asked, eyeing her with interest. His voice was soft and soothing, as she knew hers would have been if their roles were reversed.

"Where's Robert?" she managed, swallowing. Her mouth felt dry and a steady throb emanated from her branded forearm. Only after she said it did it occur to her that Robert probably wouldn't have given them his real name.

The slip went by unnoticed and the doctor pointed to a waiting room area outside. "Your boyfriend is sleeping. Only now he falls asleep."

Alex tried to raise herself into a seated position. "I need to get out of here."

"No," the doctor gave her an incredulous look. "You need to stay here. The cut on your leg is infected. So is your arm and..."

"Did you run a CBC? What are my vitals?" Alex cut him off holding out her arm. "Can I see the chart you're holding?"

He looked at her, puzzled.

"I'm a physician," she explained, "I'd like to see what you're looking at."

"You are my patient," he corrected her, his initial pleasantness waning. "Please lie down."

Alex sighed. "You don't understand…"

"You lost blood," he tried to explain, his lips tightening. "And you have a fever."

Alex frowned, her head spinning from the simple act of sitting up. She wanted specifics not kindergarten explanations. WBC and haemoglobin and hematocrit levels for starters. She was fairly certain she was dehydrated and wanted to see the BUN and Creatinine levels on the lab results. Anything tangible that would explain her physical state better than her body's pain or his laymen's terms.

Whether his refusal to do so was due to a language barrier, or a simple case of attitude, she couldn't tell.

"It is a miracle," he told her.

Alex narrowed her brows sinking back into the lumpy pillow, wishing Robert were in the room. Wishing she didn't feel as sick as she did. "A miracle?"

"A miracle you did not miscarry."

"What?" Alex asked, not understanding.

"It is a miracle you did not lose the baby," he repeated.

Alex laughed. There was no other way to react such a ludicrous statement. "You're making a mistake," she said in disbelief. "I'm not pregnant."

"Yes you are," the doctor said softly. His voice softened again in response to her distress. "I am sorry if you did not know this. But when we do blood work…"

Alex reached up to grab the chart from his hands. "I said you're mistaken."

"_Shto_…!" the doctor exclaimed, startled by her boldness.

Her eyes scanned the paper, frustrated at first by the Cyrillic script next to the numbers, then relieved to find herself reading it, more like a forgotten skill rather than one she had never mastered.

"Our laboratory double check the tests," the doctor pointed out, reaching to take the clipboard away from her. "Because you are pregnant it makes difference in the medication we administer…"

Alex clutched the charts. "Look, you're wrong, okay. This is a mistake. I am not pregnant!"

The doctor frowned, tired of her rudeness. "This is not my business. If you want baby or don't want baby, keep baby or not keep baby, that is your problem, but you are pregnant! There is no mistake. I don't believe you are doctor..." He looked at her forearm with disdain. "No doctor does something so stupid!" He grabbed the clipboard, irritated that she held on to it so tightly he couldn't wrench it from her hands. "Give it to me!"

_You are pregnant. There is no mistake._

The words echoed through her skull.

She had been trying to conceive with Dimitri since their wedding. After years of trying, they had all but given up. And now this Russian doctor was telling her that in spite of everything…in spite of the kidnapping, her fall off the horse, her imprisonment, her branding…that she had been carrying a child all this time?

It was absurd. More than absurd, it was next to impossible to have suffered the fall she did and not miscarried in such an early stage of pregnancy. Alex didn't believe in those kinds of miracles.

Unless…

Alex shut her eyes tightly feeling that awful night at the estate flooding back into her consciousness with a brutal vengeance.

The pain. The alcohol. Faison, climbing onto the sofa.

On top of her.

The memory made her nauseous.

Unless.

Unless it was conceived later.

_Unless the baby wasn't Dimitri's._

"Oh god…no…"

"Give me the board," the doctor repeated, his accented voice drifting into a haze.

"You're wrong," Alex gasped. She grabbed his lab coat, shocking the Russian. "Run your test again, because you obviously made a mistake!"

"Let go of me!" he yelled, grabbing her wrists. The action tossed the clipboard from her fingers, sending it flying into the man's face.

Its steel head cut into the doctor's forehead, leaving behind a thin line of blood that trickled down his face. He cursed her in Russian, pushing down on a button near the door, and Alex watched as two nurses and another doctor came running into the room.

"I'm sorry…" Alex whispered, aghast at seeing the doctor's bloody face. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to…"

The nurses grabbed her wrists and held them down, fastening them to the bed rail, as the second doctor filled a syringe.

"Please don't do that…" Alex pleaded, "Look, I'm really sorry..."

Her words fell on deaf ears. A nurse held her down while the doctor injected the contents of the syringe into her arm.

She didn't struggle, knowing it was futile. Knowing it would only justify their actions if she did.

In spite of her co-operation, the nurses tied her ankles into a pair of cushioned restraints, fastening them to the rails of the bed, just as they had done with her wrists.

Alex sobbed, hating that the tears fell freely down her face. Hating that her despair was on display, because she couldn't wipe them off.

She suddenly felt naked. Humiliated.

'Maybe…maybe all this is not real. Maybe it's a nightmare,' she thought. 'Just one more in a line of many.'

She wanted to pinch herself to test her theory, but that wasn't an option either.

The only choice she did have was to lie on her back and wait until her body went limp from the effects of the tranquilizer.

_Moscow_

_-_

"Where the hell is she?"

Sean Donely was furious.

"I'm going to call hotel security and have them open her room," he told Anna.

Anna thought of the suspicions it would raise among the hotel staff. Calling attention to themselves was the last thing they needed. "Don't do that."

"I'm _this _close to putting together a team that will head up to Alexei estate with us, in the hope that we'll finally get to Alex and put Cesar Faison out of commission, and what does Sandrine Mutanga do? She disappears from the face of the earth! She doesn't answer her phone and she's nowhere to be found!"

"There has to be an explanation…" Anna started.

Sean picked up the phone in his room. "I'm calling the front desk."

Anna pressed down on the tab, disconnecting the call. "I said, 'don't do that!'"

"I want to know what she's hiding, damn it!" Sean shot back. "And whether Sandrine is one more wild card we have to worry about before we face Faison."

"If you want to get into her room, we don't need hotel security to do it," Anna pointed out, irritated. She retrieved a wallet-sized leather pouch from her purse, filled with half a dozen metal needles, fastened inside with elastic bands.

Lock-picking tools.

"I forgot." Sean finally managed a smile. "I guess that works too." He eyed her as she held the pouch in her hands. "Well, what are we waiting for?"

Anna frowned. "I think you're right. I think Sandrine is hiding something. But I think you're wrong about her loyalties. I don't believe she'd do anything to jeopardize Alex."

"We don't have time to analyze Ms. Mutanga." Sean held the door open for Anna. "Let's go and find out for ourselves. Because the last thing we need at this stage is one of our own stabbing us in the back."

_Alexei Estate, North of Moscow_

_-_

"So you shot him?"

"Yes," the driver answered nervously. It might not have been the right answer, but even if in his twenty-two years of life he had never once been accused of being particularly bright, he was smart enough to know that you didn't lie to Cesar Faison. Not unless you were damn certain you could get away with it. "I ordered him to return to the car and he started to run."

"Did you order him to stop?"

"Yes," the driver nodded. "Twice."

"Did he?"

"No, he kept running. So I shot him. Twice. In the centre of the body mass."

Faison's eyes bored through him, unblinking during the entire interrogation. His Russian was flawless. "What did you do after you killed Thorpe?"

"I opened the trunk of the car."

Faison's nostrils flared. "Why?"

"I…I wanted to see if there was anything inside. I had a feeling…"

"You had a feeling something was inside. Yet in spite of your suspicions, you opened it up, instead of leaving it locked and returning to the Estate, as you were ordered to do?"

"I…" he didn't know what else to say. Put like that, it did make him seem rather stupid. "Yes."

"Well," Faison sneered. "You're either lying to me or you really are as stupid as you look."

The driver blushed. Embarrassed.

"Then what?"

"I…I…" he started stuttering, as he sometimes did when he was nervous. "I was shocked when I saw two people in the truck. A man and a woman."

"Were they armed?" Faison demanded.

The driver paused, debating whether to say yes. Wondering whether that would somehow put him in a more favourable light. But he was a terrible liar. He could never keep his lies straight. Even his mother, God bless her departed soul, had always caught him when he tried.

He decided now wasn't a good time to try again.

"No, they were not."

Faison moved closer to him. "Yet they still overpowered you? And took your gun?"

"I…I was about to restrain the man, when the woman came from be…"

"Stop!" Faison raised his hand in anger. "Stop, I don't want to hear anymore. Get out!"

The driver lowered his head and left the room.

When he was gone Faison turned to Jan Holstrom, who stood next to him, still silent, as he had been throughout the interrogation.

"I wanted to knock his thick, useless, brainless head into the wall," Faison confessed.

"I know, sir. I know."

"Is he lying?" Faison turned to him. "Do you think he's playing us? Or is he really that stupid?"

"I don't…" Jan Holstrom paused, furrowing his brows as he chose his words. "I don't believe he is playing us."

"If he's not lying, it's true then," Faison sighed. "This was Thorpe's doing. He plotted to help them escape."

Jan nodded in agreement. "I doubt it could have been anyone else. No one else moved as freely through the Estate as he did. No one else had as much contact with them."

"But why?" Faison demanded, pulling a cigarillo from his pocket and lighting it with a silver lighter. "It makes no sense…what reason would he have to risk his life and career to help Scorpio get out of here?"

Jan Holstrom had anticipated the question. "I think I might have that answer for you." He paused, adjusting his glasses. "It's not Scorpio he was helping. It's Alexandra."

Faison didn't understand. "You're suggesting she somehow got to him while he was looking after her as a doctor?"

"No. It's more than that. Here, take a look at this." He handed Faison a manila folder. "I've done some research and discovered something you might find interesting."

Faison took the folder, setting his cigarillo aside on a crystal ashtray. "What am I to make of this?"

"Take a look at the dates and the institutions," Jan prompted.

"Medical research facilities in England," Faison mumbled. "Alexandra worked on stem cell research, years ago. I know this already. Tell me something I don't know."

"So did Henry Thorpe," Jan explained. "In the exact same time, at some of the exact same institutions."

"What are you saying?"

"I think they knew each other."

Faison narrowed his brows in disbelief. "Is that possible? And if it is, what are the chances?"

Jan smiles at his good fortune. At how quickly Thorpe had ensured all fingers were pointed in his direction simply by fleeing the driver.

As if that wasn't fortunate enough, the old Englishman then had the good grace to die on the spot, making it impossible to implicate Jan in any way.

'Dead men can't say much of anything,' Jan thought, suppressing a smile.

All Jan had to do now, to cement Thorpe's guilt, was to give Faison a reasonable motive. Even this would be relatively easy, given the doctor's inadvertent revealing of his connection to Alexandra Marick, after Thorpe had summoned him to Scorpio's cell.

"I think Alexandra knew Thorpe well enough that she was able to coerce him into helping her."

"All this time, we thought he was doing his damn job and he was plotting to get her away from here!" Faison seethed at the idea, ramming a fist into the desk top counter that stood next to him. "What I don't understand is why? What's in it for him?"

"Dr. Marick has a well-established reputation in the British research community," Jan explained. "Maybe she had the power to further his career." He raised his shoulders, as if debating the alternatives. "She is also married to one of Europe's richest men, which makes her a very wealthy woman. Maybe the connection is simpler than we think; maybe she bought his help. And because he knew her, Thorpe knew she would make good on her promise."

Faison turned to Jan, his mouth turned down, disgusted. "Is it possible Thorpe could have rigged the cameras himself, or do you believe he had help?"

"Pyotr is investigating the surveillance cameras to see if it is possible to have done what he did with his limited knowledge of their workings." Pyotr Yuvchenko was Faison's director of security.

Faison's frown deepened. "I want you to monitor him. If someone on my security team was bought, I don't trust him to do the job alone."

Jan resisted another relieved smile. It was exactly what he had been hoping for. Giving him authority over his director of security would mean that Jan would oversee any evidence of tampering that Pyotr found before it reached Faison. The irony of it all didn't escape him. If anything was uncovered that implicated him, Jan would see it first.

Faison sank into a leather chair.

"If I can't trust my own security detail, who can I trust?" Faison asked. Now that he was alone in the room with him, he no longer bothered to hide his defeat. The lines on his boss' face carved more deeply today than ever before. Faison had aged in the last few hours. Months. Years perhaps.

"Personally, I don't believe…" he said, carefully. "That Thorpe had help. Rigging the cameras requires some but not extensive technological knowledge."

Faison took a deep drag from his cigarillo. "It seems that I'm surrounded by people wanting to stab me in the back."

"I don't believe it has anything to do with enmity." A red, flushing heat rose in Jan's cheeks. "Most people have a price. That's all. Alexandra must have met Thorpe's price."

Faison turned to him, a sad smile playing on his lips. "Does most people include you, my friend?"

Jan knew he was blushing now, thankful that, because of his nerves, it wasn't an unusual reaction. "Sir…I would…I would die for you. You must know that."

"Yes." Faison nodded, taking another drag of his cigarillo, puffing the blue-grey smoke into the room. "Yes, I know."

Jan swallowed, unable to say anything else. Knowing that in spite of the guilt and the fear and the relief, and all that had transpired, it was the sad truth.

If Faison needed him to, Jan would.

Die for him.

_State Hospital #18, Moscow_

_-_

She saw him in the hallway.

Seated on an uncomfortable metal chair, his head tilted to the side. Asleep.

Tears welled up, against her will, at the sight and Sandrine Mutanga held a hand over her mouth to hide her shock

Hair that was once neatly cropped had grown messily and a beard covered his chin. He had lost weight. Twenty pounds at least, she guessed. Bags hung under his eyes, even in sleep. His clothes were unrecognizable, dirty and torn. A coating of grime was embedded in the wrinkles of his hands and his usually clean, trim fingernails were cracked and dirty.

Sandrine knelt down next to him, slowly moving her fingers along his face, feeling the bristle of his beard before tracing his lips.

"Robert…"

The combination of voice and touch woke him instantly.

His pupils widened, puzzled at first, then elated at the sight that stood before him.

Robert smiled. That same familiar smile she saw in her mind every night before she fell asleep.

"I thought I'd never see you again, Sandi."

Sandrine almost crushed him when she wrapped her arms around him.

"Never again," she managed, not bothering to wipe away her tears when she kissed him. She was laughing and crying at once. "I'm never letting you go again, Robert."


	51. Chapter 51

**Chapter 51**

_State Hospital #18_

_Moscow, Russia_

_-_

In that moment he forgot everything.

Faison. Alex. The basement prison. The hell he'd been through.

None of it mattered just then. Because he had her back in his arms.

The familiar jasmine scent of her perfume. The long, thin braids that swirled beyond the base of her neck. The way her thick, full lips felt on his.

"Sandi…" His lips rose into a smile and his hands moved to cup her face. He wanted to say her name over and over, realising only now, that she was in his arms, how much he had missed her.

He loved her so much.

He laughed. "Hey…don't cry."

She smiled, wiping away the tears with the back of her hand. "I can't help it."

"You're going to make _me_ cry."

"As if anything could."

He kissed her again, oblivious to the two nurses that walked down the hall and stared at them.

He winced when she squeezed him.

A new expression lined her face. Concern. "Robert, you're hurt!"

"No." He shook his head. "I'm fine. I was shot but I'm fine now."

Sandrine's eyes narrowed, her hands unbuttoning his shirt in the middle of the corridor. "You were shot? You didn't tell me you were shot when we talked on the phone!" Her hands kept undoing his shirt, searching for the wound. Wanting to judge for herself whether or not he was fine.

Robert took her hands in his and stopped her. "Sandi…stop it! I'm fine!" Looking at her bruised face made him realize he should have asked the same question. He freed his hand from hers, his fingers tracing the purple bruise that ran along the side of her face. "What happened to you?"

"You are changing the subject!"

Robert chuckled, "I told you I was shot, sweetheart, now tell me what happened to you."

Sandrine frowned. "_Tu m'as dit rien_! You have so much to tell me…"

"What happened?" he pressed.

"Jan Holstrom," she said slowly, her eyes soaking him in.

Robert's hands moved from her face and landed on her shoulders, shocked at the answer. "Jan Holstrom did that to you? _How_?"

"It is a long story, Robert," she replied. "Not now." She pointed to the door of the room, next to the chair he had slept on. "How is Alex?"

Robert glanced guiltily at the clock in the hallway, aware now that he had slept several hours. His back was stiff and sore, but worse than that was the sick feeling of what could have happened had Faison found them both while he was asleep.

"She was asleep last time I checked," he mumbled.

"Is she alright?"

Robert frowned. "I'm not so sure." He wanted to enter the room to check on her. "Come," he took Sandrine's hand in his and led her inside, shocked at the restraints that were fastened to Alex's wrists and ankles, tying her to the bed. "What the hell…"

Sandrine looked up at him. "What is it?"

He moved to the bed, fingering with the restraints on her wrists while she slept. Anger flooded him. "I want to know what happened...why they decided to restrain her."

He ran out of the room, looking for a doctor. Sandrine was about to follow him but Robert told her to stay behind. The guilt of falling asleep nagged even deeper now and Robert ignored the steady throb of his bullet wound.

He found the young doctor who had examined her when they first arrived.

"What happened to her?"

The Russian glowered, pointing to a bandage on his forehead. "What happened to me, you are asking, yes? She becomes violent. Throwing metal at me!"

Robert shook his head in disbelief. "No way…I don't believe you. And if she did, then why? Why did she react like that?" He suddenly remembered the violent nightmares she had in the basement cell and wondered whether Alex had attacked the doctor unaware of what she was doing.

"She can tell you why when she is awake," the doctor answered cynically, walking away from him.

"Hey!" Robert caught hold of the doctor's arm. "In the meantime, take the damn restraints off her!"

The doctor brushed him off with a bitter laugh. "No. They are best for her and for my staff."

Robert restrained himself from wiping the smug look off the young man's face. "You have no idea what she's been through! You are not going to chain her to a damn hospital bed!"

The doctor's smile faded. "Do not threaten me. Or I will do the same to you."

"Fine," Robert seethed, raising his hands. "For now." He wouldn't press the issue. More trouble was the last thing they needed. Instead, he turned his back to the doctor and walked away.

Sandrine was still in the room with Alex.

"Is she still asleep?" Robert asked.

"Yes." Sandrine nodded, staring at Alex. "She looks so much like her sister…it is almost unreal." Sandrine turned her head to meet his eyes. "What now, Robert?"

Robert didn't answer, feeling the fatigue seep back into his bones. It was a good question.

Faison was still at large. Alex needed protection.

Those had to be his first two priorities.

"Did you say you were here with Sean as well?" he asked wearily.

"Yes."

"Sean Donely?"

Sandrine smiled. "Yes. _That_ Sean. He is stubborn and arrogant and difficult. I can see now why you two were best friends."

There was so much he wanted to ask. So much that Robert didn't know where to begin.

'Not now,' he told himself. There wasn't time now.

"If Sean and Anna get here they'll keep Alex safe."

"All of us will…" Sandrine started.

"No," Robert cut her off. "Not me. I can't be here when they come."

"Robert?" Sandrine narrowed her brows. "_C'est fou!_ I know you are afraid but you have to face them. It is over now. You cannot hide any more!"

"Look…" How could he explain to her that he couldn't face Anna? Not yet. Not like this.

'How can I explain to Anna that I stayed away from her all these years to protect her from Faison, and that it was all for nothing…that, after everything, he's still out there?'

"Faison is still a threat," he explained to Sandrine. "He broke the deal and now I have a job to finish. A job that Anna will hinder if she finds out that I'm alive."

Anger flushed her face. "You're mad, Robert! Anna is not the only one who will stop you. I won't let you go after him alone either!"

Robert closed his eyes and leaned against the wall. He was so incredibly tired. He didn't have the energy for this argument. For _any _argument.

"Robert," Sandrine went on, her voice softening. "I don't want to lose you. If I had never met your daughter I would say, yes! Yes, come back to Africa with me and never look back again." She paused. "But now I have met your ex-wife _and _your daughter. Everything has changed now. I want you to choose me, Robert. With no secrets and no lies anymore. I want you to choose me because you want me, not because Anna thinks you are dead."

Robert felt flushed. He was hurting Sandrine, just as he had hurt Anna and Robin.

"I can't Sandi…"

Sandrine didn't let him finish. "It has to end, Robert. If you have to get Faison then let me and Anna and Sean help you."

"Sandi, I'm not ready!"

It was the truth. The simple, honest truth.

Would he ever be ready? Was it even possible to go back in time and make things right again?

Sandrine looked at him with sad eyes. "If not now Robert, then when?"

"When Faison is dead," he answered. It would give him the time he needed to sort things out. Time to make sense of everything. To find a way, when he wasn't wounded and bone weary, to explain to his family why he'd abandoned them.

"Robin needs you," Sandrine whispered. "There are things you don't know."

"I will face them," Robert said softly. "Sean and Anna and Robin. But not today. Not like this."

Sandrine pointed to Alex. "What about her? Does she not know who you are?"

"Alex won't say anything."

"What?" Sandrine looked at him in disbelief. "Of course she will tell her sister that her husband is alive! She has no reason to keep your secret."

Robert hesitated. Sandrine was right. Alex had no reason to keep his secret. Her loyalties undoubtedly lay with her sister.

Yet Alex had given him her word, and if she was as much like Anna as he suspected, his instincts told him she'd honour it.

"She's not going to say anything."

Sandrine rolled her eyes. "Right."

Robert put a hand on her shoulder. "I need you to get Anna and Sean to come here, to this hospital to keep Alex safe and to get her out of here."

"What about you?"

Thoughts raced through his mind, making a tired attempt at formulating a plan. "I'll find a hotel, and I'll meet you there, while you wait for them."

Sandrine grabbed his hand. "No…I don't trust you not to go after Faison while I wait."

Robert frowned. "I'm not a fool, Sandi, I know I'm in no shape to go after him like this."

"No, you are not," she firmly agreed. "If I contact Sean and Anna, and Alex's husband then we both wait for them to come here. And when they do I will take you to a doctor."

"Haven't you heard anything I said…I can't…" Robert stared in protest.

"We wait," Sandrine decided. "We wait together and watch until they come here, then we make our way out."

"It's too risky."

Sandrine held on to his hand. "I don't care. I won't let you do this alone."

Robert sighed. What had happened to his demure, obedient partner? Only a short time with his ex-wife and already Anna's pig-headedness had rubbed off on Sandrine. "Fine," he conceded. "Just do whatever it takes to get them here."

_Moscow, Russia_

_-_

"I don't feel right doing this," Anna mumbled, as she pressed the metal into the lock, feeling for its hinges and pressure points. Luckily they were staying at an older hotel. One that still used traditional keys and locks as opposed to the magnetic key cards now favoured by most hotel chains.

Sean scanned the hallway, keeping an eye out for anyone who might walk by and see what she was doing.

"If she's not conning us she should have nothing to hide."

Anna frowned, as her fingers toiled with the metal pin. "Just because I have nothing to hide, doesn't mean I'd want the two of you digging through my things."

"Remind yourself that she's making us waste precious time with her disappearing act," Sean told her. "If that'll ease your conscience."

Anna said nothing, still fumbling with the metal.

"Are we losing our touch?" Sean quipped.

He'd barely asked the question, when Anna removed the metal pin from the lock and clasped the doorknob with her hand, turning it and opening the door.

She smirked triumphantly. "Did you say something?"

"Nope." Sean chuckled. "Nothing at all."

While Anna hesitated, Sean went straight to Sandrine's suitcase, opening zippers and slipping his hands into the narrow compartments, hoping to find something that might help explain the enigma that was Sandrine Mutanga.

Anna brushed a strand of hair behind her face as she bent down by the bedside table, finding nothing there but a few hairclips and a bracelet, next to an unopened container of medication from the pharmacy at the Parisian hospital that had admitted Sandrine. There was no paper. Nothing that bore any writing or information.

"Well?" Anna turned to Sean, who was making his way deeper into the suitcase, fingering through anything that had a pocket.

"Does the hotel offer safe deposit boxes?"

Anna shrugged. "I don't know. What difference does it make? If they do they won't give us access to Sandrine's."

She moved to the bathroom, turning on the lights only to find nothing more suspicious than a jasmine-scented bottle of perfume standing on the sink, next to a glass that held a toothbrush and toothpaste. Anna opened the mirror and found a small mother-of-pearl container in the cabinet behind it. Inside it was a modest sampling of make-up.

Mascara, lipstick, foundation and powder. Nothing more.

Everything in the room suggested the efficient, no-frills lifestyle of a well-trained field agent. Belongings that gave away nothing about the person that owned them. Belongings that could be packed up and moved in less than ten minutes time.

Anna went back into the bedroom, to see Sean tossing out clothes from the small black suitcase. Clothes that made Anna aware that one of the few things separating her belongings from Sandrine's was the younger agent's love of colour. Her suits and blouses were red and green and yellow. Deep, bold colours that contrasted starkly to Anna's black, grey and white outfits.

"Anything?" she asked Sean.

"Yeah." He said, pulling out a small tin of Parisian _amandines._ "I now know she likes almond cookies."

Anna frowned. "Her disappearance makes me nervous but we have to stick to our plan. Alex doesn't have much time."

Sean stood up, throwing a green blazer back into the suitcase. "What if Sandrine is setting up a trap for us?"

Anna bit her lip, not wanting to think of that possibility. "It doesn't matter, Sean. We're Alex's only chance."

"We can't help her if we're dead."

"You've always said you trust my instincts. My gut feeling is telling me Sandrine is not playing us."

"I do trust your instincts but…"

The ringing of Anna's cell phone interrupted him before he had a chance to finish.

Anna pulled it out and flipped it open.

"That had better be our MIA partner, with one hell of an explan…"

"Shh…" Anna held a finger to her lips, meeting Sean's stare.

Her eyes widened when she heard the voice on the other end. "Sandrine?"

_State Hospital #18_

_-_

Robert stood next to the bed and cupped his hand over hers, brushing against the restraints that held them in place. "Sorry, sweetheart, that I couldn't do anything about these. As soon as Anna gets here, I know she'll raise hell with the doc who decided to put them on." He couldn't help a grin. "She might even threaten to give him a bigger bruise than you did, if he doesn't agree."

Alex was still in a sound, drugged sleep and she didn't budge in response to his voice.

Looking at her now took him back in time, to a lifetime ago, to early mornings when he had woken up before Anna, and purposely stayed quiet so he could watch her sleep.

"You look so much like her…"

He ran his fingers over her hands, observing the IV that ran into her arm; freshly and cleanly bandaged to cover the ghastly tattoo underneath.

"Maybe Sandi's right, maybe I am crazy to believe you'll keep your word, but I think you will."

Sandrine burst through the door, her dark skin looking ashen.

"Well?" Robert asked, "Did you get a hold of them?"

"Yes," Sandrine nodded. "I spoke to Anna. I told her to come here as soon as possible. That Alex is here."

"And?"

Sandrine paused, catching her breath. "She's furious with me. She didn't believe me. She thinks I'm playing games with them."

"You disappeared on them, didn't you?"

"Yes," Sandrine admitted. "Because I couldn't tell them it was you who called."

"You can't blame them then."

"I know."

"Angry or not, do you think they're going to come?"

"Yes," Sandrine nodded. "I think they will. I think I gave them enough information to convince them of that much."

Robert exhaled in relief. "Good. How long do you think it'll take them to get here?"

Sandrine shrugged. "Twenty minutes maybe? If they come right away."

Robert brushed a strand of hair from Alex face, taking a last look at her. "I hope you overcome whatever that bastard did to you," he mumbled. "'Cause god knows he's not worth ruining your life for. I should know." He bent down to kiss her forehead. "And hopefully we can meet again. In better circumstances."

Sandrine observed him in silence, wondering if he would have been as tender if Alexandra Marick wasn't a dead ringer for his ex-wife.

_Moscow_

_-_

"Sandrine called to say she's with Alex?" Dimitri Marick stared at her in disbelief. "Here in Moscow?"

"We don't know whether she's telling the truth," Sean cut in, hoping to spare Anna another barrage of verbal outrage from the Count. After Sandrine's bizarre phone call, they had gone to Dimitri with the news, as Anna had insisted, and now they stood in his hotel room, facing two pairs of incredulous Marick eyes. One black, the other grey.

"She could be setting us up," Sean told him.

Dimitri gave him an skeptical look. "Why would this woman, who's been working with you for weeks, set you up? To what? Lure you to a hospital of all places?"

"Why are you arguing?" Andrei interrupted. "Let's go to this hospital!"

Dimitri ignored him turned back to back to Anna. "What exactly did Sandrine tell you?"

"That a woman by the name of Linda Smith was checked into state hospital #18…."

"Linda Smith?" Dimitri's look grew increasingly puzzled

"An alias," Anna explained. "Sandrine's partner, Roger Saunders, gave it to Alex to protect her from Faison."

"I don't get it."

"Sandrine said her partner escaped from Alexei Estate," Anna continued. "With Alex."

"And now she's in a hospital? Why? Is she hurt?" Agitation lined his face.

"Look, I don't know," Anna said, exasperated. "We called the hospital, and there is a woman by the name of Linda Smith checked in. Other than telling us she's not critical, they wouldn't give us any details on her condition."

"You're saying Sandrine's missing partner contacted her and she went off to see him and found Alex?"

Anna ran a hand across her forehead, knowing that having it spelled out didn't result in it making any more sense. "Essentially. Yes, that's what we're trying to say."

"Why the hell wouldn't she share that with you before running off to see him on her own?"

"That's the question, isn't it?" Sean added. "Why she would make up some story about a sick brother, and high tail it out of the hotel without letting us know? Why the damn secrecy?"

"Okay…" Dimitri wavered, trying to absorb the information. "I don't care about her reasons, or why she doesn't trust you enough to be honest with you," Dimitri announced, oblivious to Sean's dirty look. "I want to get to that hospital. Now!"

"Me too," Andrei told them.

Both men grabbed their jackets and Anna turned to Sean, knowing that, ambush or not, all they could do now was follow them.

_State Hospital #18_

_-_

Robert stared at the huge hallway clock and gave Sandrine a nudge into the staircase.

"They should be here any minute," he warned her. "Get in before they spot you."

In a hallway filled with Caucasians, Sandrine's dark skin and long braids stood out like a sore thumb. Robert had found a white lab coat in a linen closet. That, coupled with his thick beard, made him nearly unrecognizable. He was certain that even if Sean and Anna did catch a glimpse of him standing at the end of the hallway, they wouldn't give him a second glance.

Standing here, next to the staircase was the only way he could keep an eye on Alex's room until they arrived.

As soon as he spotted them and knew that Alex was safe, he would head down the staircase with Sandrine and flee the hospital.

'Will I?' he asked himself, unable to keep from staring at the clock. It was more than thirty minutes since Sandrine had called Anna.

His teeth chattered nervously, adrenaline again surging over his fatigue, leaving him in a restless, worn-out state of wakefulness.

In mere minutes, Anna and Sean would emerge from the elevator at the other end of the hallway.

'You're going to be so close, luv,' he thought, his heart pounding with anticipation. 'Am I kidding myself to think I can walk away from you again?'

A pinging noise at the end of the hallway announced that the elevator doors were about to open.

And then he saw them.

His heart stood still.

Five people walked out.

Sean was first, his right arm inside his jacket.

'Armed and ready,' Robert thought. 'I see you haven't changed, old buddy.'

Then there was the young Russian doctor, leading them to Alex's room. Followed by two men he didn't recognize. One was tall and well dressed; with hair so dark it was almost black. Another younger man followed him. He was uncommonly short, with a thick mop of wavy brown hair.

'Alex's husband and son,' he decided, still staring as they headed into the room.

Anna was the last person he saw.

She wasn't close enough for him to see her clearly. Yet he knew he would have recognized her even if the distance between them had been twice as long.

It was the way she carried herself. That familiar, confident stride that he would have recognized amidst a crowd of hundreds.

Then she turned around to examine her surroundings.

Her eyes scanned the hallway and stared straight in his direction.

Robert froze, unable to move.

Anna was looking right at him.

Sandrine knocked against the glass window of the door leading to the staircase. He turned and saw her mouth his name, her hand gesturing for him to come inside.

His vision went back to Anna and he watched her scan the hallway in the other direction. Like Sean, she had one of her hands on the holster carrying her gun.

And then, once she was finished with her visual inspection she was gone. Out of sight.

"Anna…"

He didn't realize he'd said her name aloud until he heard Sandrine opening the door.

"Robert!" she looked at him, distressed. "They're here aren't they? We have to go!"

It had been an illusion. Anna didn't see him. She hadn't locked her eyes with his.

Of course not. It wasn't possible. He stood too far away.

Even so, he was still frozen in his spot. Immobile.

"Robert!" This time Sandrine grabbed his hand, pulling him into the staircase. "Are you coming?"

He nodded weakly.

Sandrine looked at him, her eyes full of understanding. "Robert, we don't have to go if you don't want to," she said softly. "We can stay here and go into Alex's room. We can end this today. Right now."

Robert gasped for air, feeling his senses come back to life.

Alex was safe.

For now.

Sandrine was wrong. The only way to truly end it was to kill Faison.

Robert shook his head, turning away from the hallway and forcing his legs to move down the stairs.

"Not today," he said, taking her hand gratefully, knowing that if Sandrine wasn't here wouldn't have had the will to leave Anna.

Again.


	52. Chapter 52

**Chapter 52**

_State Hospital #18, Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Relief.

Gratitude.

_Love_.

A dozen emotions ran through him when he saw her.

"Alex, darling it's me…" Dimitri was about to take one of her hands in his when he saw the restraints. Anna, Sean, Andrei and the doctor were in the room with him, but Dimitri was oblivious to them all.

Until now.

"What is this?" he demanded, turning to the Russian doctor. "Why is my wife chained to the bed?"

The doctor pointed to his bandaged forehead. "She has violent reaction. It is for keeping her safe."

"_Get them off right now_!"

The doctor was about to protest, but Dimitri gave him a glare that made him think twice.

"This hospital will not be responsible if…"

Dimitri didn't let him finish. "I said, _take them off!_"

The doctor undid the restraints, taking longer than it warranted. Presumably, the task didn't fall under his normal job description.

He did it clumsily, waking his patient in the process.

"Hey big sis…" Anna moved to her bedside. Her voice choked. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you."

Alex looked at her groggily. "Anna?"

Anna felt Sean's hands on her shoulders. "Sweetheart…I think this might be overwhelming for her, to see us all like this. Hovering over her."

Anna glanced at Andrei and Dimitri, both of whom stood next to her. "What do you mean?"

Sean gave her a gentle push and whispered in her ear. "I think maybe Dimitri and Andrei should have a few minutes alone with her."

Anna didn't agree, but she didn't protest. Instead she let Sean lead her out of the room.

Once in the hallway, she didn't bother hiding her annoyance.

"I spend _weeks_ looking for my sister and now you're telling me I should get out of the room?"

Sean sighed, nudging her away from the door. "Did you have a look at her? She's obviously drugged. Confused. Hurt. God knows what else. I think you need to take things slow."

"I want to _be_ with her, Sean!"

"I know you do, but right now seeing the two people she's closest to might be all she can handle."

Anna frowned, and brushed off his arm. "Nice time to start taking Dimitri's side."

Sean sighed. "This isn't about taking sides, sweetheart."

He watched as she paced the hallway, her heels making a clicking noise, contrasting to the noiseless rubber soles worn by the hospital staff. "I just…I can't believe it, Sean. Sandrine was right…she found my sister. Alex is here…alive. It's incredible."

"The fact that she lied seems insignificant in light of Alex being alive, doesn't it?"

Anna kept pacing, staring at the door of Alex's room. "I want to see her, Sean. I need to know if she's okay."

"Why don't we talk to the doctor and find out what's wrong with her?" Sean suggested.

Anna put her hands on her hips. "Fine." He was placating her, she knew it, but he had a point. Talking to her doctor would at least shed some light on her sister's condition.

Sean spotted the man walking down the hallway, "Excuse me! We need to talk to you!"

"I am busy!" the doctor shot back.

"Please, just a few minutes," Anna pleaded. "That's my sister in there."

"Yes, I can see that," the doctor replied dryly. "What you want to talk about?"

"I want to know what her condition is," Anna told him. "Why was she admitted?"

"And _who_ brought her here?" Sean added.

The doctor frowned, irritated at the interruption. Reluctantly he stuffed one hand into the large pocket of his lab coat and gestured them towards a row of seats with his other hand.

Once seated, the doctor grabbed a freestanding chair and dragged it across the floor, to sit down across from them.

"You are asking more questions than I can answer," he told them, squeezing his stethoscope into his pocket.

"You can tell us what's wrong with her physically, can't you?" Sean asked.

"Problem is fever because of infection."

"From what?"

"Two things," the doctor said labouring with the words and obviously not enjoying the foray into the English language. "Wound in leg," he pointed to his thigh. "And tattoo in arm. Both was not having good treatment."

"_Tattoo_?" Anna raised her brows. "She has an infection from a tattoo? I don't understand..."

"Not tattoo only," the doctor corrected, fishing for the word. "Burning tattoo," he tried. "Like with animals…cows." He pulled the stethoscope from his pocket and dabbed it onto Anna's forearm, making a hissing sound. "Like that."

"You're saying she was branded?" Sean asked, hoping he misunderstood.

"Branded, yes," the doctor nodded, certain that was the word he had been looking for.

"I don't get it…" Anna shook her head in disbelief. "What…what the hell would he mark her with…?"

"Is there a symbol on her arm?" Sean offered. "Something recognizable?"

"Not symbol," the doctor corrected. "English letters. They say a name. _Alexandra_."

"Oh god…" a wave of nausea crept up Anna's throat as it suddenly all made sense. Faison burned Alex's name into her flesh. A permanent mark, to tell them apart. A message to both of them; telling them he wouldn't be fooled again.

"Do you know why this name?" the doctor asked.

Anna held a hand over her mouth, unable to answer. Unable to find the words to explain something so senselessly cruel.

"It's _her_ name," Sean told the doctor softly.

"Her name is Linda Smith."

"No. It's Alexandra Marick," Sean corrected him.

"But the man who brings her to hospital…" the doctor began, just as Sean cut him off.

"Where _is_ that man?" Sean demanded. "Was he admitted as well?"

The doctor shook his head.

"Is he here? Have you seen him recently?"

"No," the doctor replied. "But I did not look." He glanced at the overhead clock and pulled the stethoscope back out of his pocket, getting up from his chair. "I must go now."

"Wait…" Anna protested, "There's more I want to ask."

Sean put a hand on her arm, "It's alright," he said to the doctor. "We'll ask you later."

"Yes," the doctor agreed, rushing off. "Later."

"Sean!" Anna shook him off in frustration. "He barely told us anything!"

"He's an ER doctor, for chrissakes. How far do you think we'll get by bullying him?"

Anna stood up, straightening her skirt angrily. "I'm going to see my sister."

"Anna, wait," Sean grabbed her arm again.

"Why?" she demanded, turning around to face him. Tears had pooled at the rim of her eyes.

"Not like this. I don't think you should see her like this."

"He branded her, Sean!" Anna shot back. "Like an animal! He branded her so he could tell her apart from me. If it wasn't for my past with that monster, Alex wouldn't be lying in there right now!"

Sean pulled her aside, away from the busy corridor, where a man wheeling a stretcher almost ran into her. "This is _exactly_ why you're not going to see her like this."

"Don't tell me what to do!" she snapped, wiping away a tear with the back of her hand.

"Listen," he said, moving closer to her. "We only just found Alex. We have no idea what happened to her when she was with Faison, or even how she got here. We barely know the full extent of her physical scars, never mind the emotional ones. The last thing she needs right now is to see her sister full of guilt and anger!"

Her eyes narrowed, and Sean thought he caught of glimpse of understanding in them.

"He _branded_ her, Sean," she repeated in a whisper, her eyes wet as her hand reached up to cover her mouth, stifling the groans that threatened to escape. "I'm going to make that bastard pay, if it's the last thing I do."

"Hey, sweetheart, it's gonna be okay. She's here with us now, and she's safe."

"I want to kill him with my own two hands!"

Sean tightened his lips. "You and me both. But revenge has to take a back seat right now. There are more important things to focus on. Like Alex."

Anna glared at him.

"She needs you, Anna."

Anna didn't wipe away the tears that fell down her face. And she didn't resist when Sean wrapped an arm around her.

"How can it be okay?" she wept. "How could I have let him do what he did? My beautiful, brilliant sister. _How could I have let that happen to her_?"

Sean didn't have an answer.

Instead, he held her, as she buried her face in his chest and cried.

_Moscow Marriott Grand Hotel, Moscow_

_-_

"If we get a hold of Sampson right away he should be able to get me papers within a few hours. I'll contact him if you can start looking for flights and…"

"Robert!" Sandrine looked at him in disbelief. "We just stepped into this room! You cannot be serious about leaving Moscow tonight. You are in no condition to go anywhere…_look at you_!"

"If we don't leave soon, Sean and Anna are going to have your face plastered at every security checkpoint at every airport in and around Moscow and…"

"No, they are not!" Sandrine said incredulously. "Sean and Anna have no reason to do that. I told them the truth. They know that because they are with Alex now."

Robert started unbuttoning his dirty shirt. "They'll want to know who helped Alex, Not just who, but_ how _and _why_."

"They know already," Sandrine replied. "They know it was Roger Saunders."

"Exactly. And if you think for one moment they're not going to try everything in their power to get a hold of Saunders, then you don't know Sean Donely and my ex-wife very well."

Sandrine bit her lip, angry at what he was inferring. "They are busy taking care of Alex now."

"Exactly," Robert agreed. "They're busy looking after Alex _now_."

"Robert," Sandrine threw up her arms in frustration. "You can barely stand, you're so exhausted. Please don't do this. Sleep for a few hours and think about what you are doing. It's not to late to go back to the hospital and tell Anna and Sean everything."

Robert frowned when he glanced toward the only phone in the room. "Are you going to call Sampson or do I have to it?"

_Moscow State Hospital #18_

_-_

This time she thought she was dreaming.

Dimitri and Andrei stood by the bed, hovering over her.

She moved a hand to her eyes, rubbing them, hoping it would help clear her vision.

Gone were the restraints that tied them to the bed and now she wasn't sure whether maybe _that_ had been a dream instead. And this was real.

"Andrei? Dimitri?" she whispered, afraid that saying the names aloud would make them disappear.

Instead, they smiled.

Andrei's smile was so broad it lit up his entire face. "Hi, Alex."

Dimitri bent down to kiss her and when he did the familiar scent of his cologne filled her nostrils. "Hi there, beautiful. I've missed you. You have no idea how relieved I am to see you awake."

Her hands reached out to touch his face.

"Dimitri…is it really you?"

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into an embrace. "It's me, darling. I'm here and you're safe."

Through Dimitri's hug, she caught a glimpse of Andrei standing next to him, crying and wiping his nose.

"Come here," she whispered, using a free arm to pull him into her embrace. "I missed you, sweetheart."

"I missed you too, Alex," he said burying his face at the base of her neck. He was still crying. Embarrassed that he couldn't stop.

Alex felt Dimitri kiss her forehead, gently pulling away from her to give her a chance to wrap both arms around Andrei.

Alex wept, not wanting to let go of neither of them. The sight of Dimitri and the feel of Andrei in her arms.

It was real. She wasn't dreaming.

It wasn't possible to feel this much love in a dream.

_Down the hallway_

_-_

Sean handed her a tissue. "Better?"

Anna nodded, blowing her nose. "Yeah."

"I think your sister is going to need you to be strong for her for a while," Sean said

"This is going to kill Dimitri."

"All the more reason she'll need someone who isn't going to fall apart when they see her."

Anna leaned against the wall and sighed. "Yeah…you're right." She pressed a kiss on his cheek. "Thanks."

"Anytime, sweetheart."

"What about Sandrine and her partner?" she asked him. "Where the hell are they, and why would they disappear on us like this? She has to know we can track them down through the WSB."

Sean nodded. "From day one, nothing's been simple or straightforward about that woman." He scratched his bruised face. "Why don't I start asking the hospital some questions about how Alex was admitted and you give Robin a call to let her know we found her aunt?"

Anna nodded, anxious to see Alex. "Alright."

_Moscow Marriott Grand Hotel, Moscow_

_-_

Sandrine wanted to join him in the shower but he wouldn't let her.

"Because you don't want me to see how hurt you are…" she thought angrily, tossing a pillow aside on the king sized bed. "You are so impossibly stubborn. Between you and Anna, _mon Dieu_, it is a miracle you did not kill each other when you were together."

He had locked himself inside the bathroom for almost an hour now and Sandrine could see a thin veil of steam coming through the crack in the door.

It left her with nothing else to do but contact Sampson.

As Robert had predicted, Clive Sampson had enough clout to ensure there were papers waiting at the Congolese embassy for him within the hour. All they had to do was pick them up on the way to the airport.

"I need another favour, Sandi," a voice asked from the corner of the room.

Sandrine turned around to see Robert standing in the doorway of the bathroom, wearing a white hotel bathrobe. He had shaved his beard and it served to emphasize his gaunt cheeks and the weight he'd lost. The lack of facial hair also made his hair seem longer than it did at the hospital earlier.

"What?" she asked tiredly.

"There's a men's clothing store in the hotel lobby," he said. "I need some clothes. It's probably ridiculously overpriced and I have no credit card, so I need you to…"

Sandrine gave him a meagre smile. "So you trust me now, to buy your clothes?"

He returned her smile. "I trust you with my life, Sandi."

"Robert…" she started.

"What is it?"

"What about the other men?" she asked. "The two agents you took with you. Albert and Moise Ngoma. What happened to them?"

Robert paused, avoiding her eyes. "They're dead, Sandi. When we stormed the estate we got caught. Faison killed them the night he locked me up."

Sandrine got up to put her arms around him. "I'm sorry, Robert. I'm so sorry."

"It's another reason I have to get back to Kinshasa," he said, his voice a whisper in her ears. "I have to see their families. It's my responsibility to tell them. I have to make sure that the WSB takes care of them."

"I know," Sandrine replied. "I know you do."

"Were you able to check on papers and flights."

"Sampson said he can have a passport waiting for you at the DRC's embassy within the hour."

"And flights?"

"There's a Saudi Arabian Airlines flight from Sheremetyevo in three hours leaving for Riyadh. We can connect to Kinshasa from there."

"Good."

"Robert…"

He put an index finger on her lips. "Sandi…please. I know what you want to say. But I need to get out of here. Then we'll deal with the rest. With Faison. Anna. Robin…okay?"

Sandrine nodded, swallowing both her pride and her need to protest his ridiculous plan.

He kissed her on the lips. "I love you, Sandi."

_State Hospital #18, Moscow_

_-_

She was still holding on to Andrei when the doctor walked in.

The doctor wore a large band-aid across his forehead and his presence made Alex to release Andrei from her embrace. It also jarred her memory.

"Doctor…" she started, sinking back into the pillow. "Your cut. I did that didn't I?" If she did then it wasn't a nightmare after all.

Nor were the restraints he fastened on her afterwards.

Or the news he told her beforehand.

"_It is a miracle you did not lose the baby." _

"_There is no mistake. You are pregnant."_

"How are you feeling?" the doctor asked her, avoiding the question. "I see you have big family."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Yes," he said, not hiding his annoyance at her bluntness.

"That's when you put on the restraints, isn't it?" she continued. "I wasn't dreaming."

"No, you are not dreaming," he told her.

Dimitri stepped in, between her and the doctor. "What are you talking about? Alex, you would never hurt anyone."

"Who are you?" the doctor asked.

"I'm her husband, Dimitri Marick," he said with a frown. "And I want to know what happened here." Alex observed him as he turned towards her. "Did he hurt you?"

The doctor eyed her, his glance hinting that he now knew exactly why the news had distressed her so much. "You need talk to husband. I will come back," was all he said slyly, before leaving her room again.

"Darling…" Dimitri started, his handsome face lined with concern. "Tell me what happened."

"When you came here…were my hands in restraints?"

"Yes, but I ordered them taken off…" Dimitri replied, lowering the steel bar on her bedside so he could sit down next to her.

Alex stared at him.

At this man who'd done nothing but fill her life with love. Who had fulfilled her in ways she hadn't thought possible.

'_And because I was afraid of losing my mind…I slept with another man. And now I'm carrying his child.'_

She felt the tears fall down her face.

'How can I look at you and tell you that?'

She turned away from him, feeling as though the guilt might rip her apart.

"Alex, darling…are you in pain? Please talk to me…Andrei get a nurse or a doctor for her!"

Andrei dashed out of the room.

"Darling…" She felt Dimitri's hands on her cheeks, brushing the hair from her face. "Look at me and tell me what's wrong."

He loved her so much. But Dimitri Marick was also a proud man.

_'If I__ tell you the truth? Will you ever look at me the same way again?'_

'_What if you can't?'_

'_Will it kill that love?'_

Oh god. It hurt. The thought of losing that.

She could stand to lose everything else. But not that. Not the way he looked at her, with all the love in the world in his eyes.

"Alex…"

"Please go away."

"Alex…" he moved to the other side of the bed. "Come on, dalring. Tell me what's wrong." His eyes were warm, kind and full of concern.

Alex shut hers tight. She couldn't bear looking into them. Not now. Not knowing what she knew.

"Please. I need to be a alone for a bit..."

She felt his lips on her cheeks.

"I'm not leaving you."

"Please."

She repeated it, refusing to open her eyes, until she heard his footsteps leave the room.

"I love you, Alex," was the last thing she heard him say before she fell back into a feverish sleep.

_Later_

_-_

"Anna!"

Dimitri Marick spotted her, together with Sean Donely in the hallway.

"How's Alex?" Anna asked.

It was a good question. He wished he had the answer. "I'm worried about her…at first she seemed happy to see us, she couldn't hang on to Andrei tight enough, but then this doctor came into the room and, something changed. She just shut me out."

Anna frowned, "What do you mean?"

"I don't know how to explain it, it was like looking into the eyes of a stranger." Dimitri told them. "She's got a fever, but at the same time she seems lucid. She asked me to leave her alone."

Anna turned around. "Let me go see her…"

"No." Dimitri grabbed her before she had a chance to run off to her sister's room. "She's sleeping now."

"I want to see her," Anna protested.

"You spoke to her doctor didn't you?" Dimitri asked her. "What did he tell you? What's wrong with her…physically?" Neither Sean nor Anna answered the question, and the silence that hung in the air made him nervous. "Well? What did he say?"

"I checked with the nurse who admitted her," Sean offered. "It's…several things."

"Tell me," Dimitri demanded.

"Apparently she has infections from two injuries. Burns on her arm and a flesh wound on her thigh. The fever is a result of that and they're treating her with antibiotics."

"She looks like she's been though hell," Dimitri added. "Do we know what happened to her? _How_ she was hurt? How did she end up with _burns_ on her arm?"

"We…don't know," Anna replied, her eyes locking with Sean's. It was a mutual glance that told Dimitri she did know more than she was letting on, but as usual wasn't going to share. It was an endless battle. Pulling information out of the two ex-spies was like pulling teeth and he was sick and tired of it.

"What about Sandrine's partner?" Dimitri asked, not hiding his irritation. Soon he wouldn't have to go head to head with Anna and Sean any longer. He had his wife back and he would take her home to Vadsel at the first opportunity. Far away from their world of never-ending secrets and lies. "He brought her here, didn't he? I want to talk to him."

"Don't we all," Sean mumbled.

The answer took him aback. "What do you mean?"

"He's gone," Anna explained.

"Gone?" Dimitri asked incredulously. He couldn't have heard her right.

"They were gone by the time we got here."

Dimitri wanted to laugh. The sheer absurdity of it all was almost comical. "Of course you lost them…you lose everyone don't you? First Alex on the bridge…then you capture and lose Faison's assistant, then you lose Dan O'Toole, and lastly you lose Sandrine and her partner. Is there a day you don't screw up something?"

"In order to lose them we would've had to _have _them," Sean corrected, his own irritation flaring. "Sandrine's a grown woman with the freedom to come and go as she pleases. Sorry we didn't keep her on a leash for you, Count."

"Maybe you should have," Dimitri shot back. Anna and Sean never failed to jump to each other's defence. They reminded him off two siblings, endlessly covering up for one another's misdeeds. It was just one more thing he was tired of. Like Sean's habit of addressing him as 'Count' just to annoy him.

"Where's her doctor?" Dimitri asked. Maybe he would get more out of him than out of these two.

"Why don't you have walk down the hallway and go look for him, Count?" Sean offered.

Dimitri tightened his lips. It was almost over, he reminded himself.

The forced time spent with Sean and Anna was almost over. Thankfully.

"I think I will," he said, turning around with a bitter taste in his mouth.

_Paris, France_

_Anna's Apartment_

_-_

Robin Scorpio kicked off her sandals as soon as she entered her mother's apartment, slipping into a pair of plastic flip-flips, while glancing into the hallway's full-length mirror.

Her shoulder-length hair was tied back into a messy bun, half of which had come undone on the way up the stairs. That, combined with her fabric backpack, made her look every bit the harried medical student that she was.

Half a dozen of her personal items were scattered on a wooden stand near the entrance of the apartment, a reminder that she spent more time here than at her own apartment these days.

One whiff of the smell coming from the kitchen reminded her why.

'Chili,' she thought with a grin. It smelled like Texas chili. An odd, out of place aroma in the tiny Parisian apartment. Yet at the same time the scent was so welcoming it almost made her homesick for the States.

David was an excellent cook and Robin had to admit that the meals he had prepared for her nearly every day since his arrival, had given her good reason to spend time at her mother's apartment.

'Not that Leah isn't reason enough,' she thought with a smirk, thinking back to the pink rubber duck that had come flying out of her backpack this morning, when she pulled out a stack of laboratory papers in front of her professor. She had caught it just before it landed in an open petrie dish.

But more than Leah and the food, she had to grudgingly admit that she enjoyed David's company.

She loved going over medical case histories with him, thrilled at the chance to get inside the mind of one of the most accomplished surgeons in the United States. They were the kinds of discussions that she knew her fellow students would have turned green with envy for.

'Between you and Alex, I have some incredible footsteps to follow.'

But even more than picking his brain, she simply enjoyed his company.

Robin had been prepared, or maybe it was fairer to say that she had every _intention_ of disliking him, after what he had done to her mother. Yet now she looked forward to the nightly discussions they often had after putting Leah to bed.

Even more surprising was the fact that he worried as frantically about her mother, as she did. Because he seemed to love her just as much.

Tonight, she expected David to be in the kitchen, as he often was, wearing her mother's too-small apron.

She was surprised to see him sitting at the dining room table instead, holding the cordless phone in one hand, his expression serious. A small fan sat on one corner of the table, wildly circulating the warm air in the apartment. It was one of three David had bought this past week.

"Hi, David," she said casually. "Is everything okay?"

"Anna called," he answered, as though only now aware that he wasn't alone in the apartment. "They found Alex."

"They did?" Robin's jaw dropped. "Is she…is she _okay_?"

David's expression was sombre. "She's in a hospital in Moscow. Anna said her injuries aren't critical. But…"

Robin pulled out a chair and sat down across from him, furrowing her brows. "But what…?"

"But Anna says she doesn't know much at this point. That Alex had some minor injuries that became infected. She's conscious and coherent, that's about all they can tell us at this time."

"What about Faison?"

"Anna said they found an Estate, several hours north of Moscow that apparently belongs to him. She thinks it's where he took Alex to, but she believes that he'll no longer be there."

"So they didn't find her there?" Robin questioned.

"Apparently she escaped with the help of Sandrine's partner."

"what about him…is _he_ okay?"

David shrugged, "I don't know. Anna didn't mention him."

"And Mom?" Robin demanded. "How is she?"

David frowned, "I'm worried about her, Robin."

"Why? What did she say?"

Setting down the cordless phone he had held in his hand, he looked at her. "I'm worried that she's going to blame herself for what happened to Alex."

Robin sighed. David was right. Sometimes he knew her mother better than she gave him credit for. "Mom blames herself for a lot where Faison's concerned. There's not much either of us can do about that."

David's frown deepened when he got up and took off her mother's apron, throwing it over the back of the chair he sat on. Although the smell of his chili still permeated the apartment, Robin had lost her appetite. "Not if we're here and she's in Moscow."

"Sean is there with her," Robin tried to reassure him. "If I trust anyone to make sure Mom's okay, it's Sean."

The response didn't appease David.

"Sean is not her husband. _I am!_"

Robin said nothing, deciding now wasn't the time to point out technicalities. Like the fact that he no longer was. Married to her mother, that is.

"I should be there with her," David went on. "_Me_. Not Sean."

He started pacing.

"What if Marick blames her for this?"

"I don't think Dimitri's out to hurt Mom. He knows this isn't her fault. Besides, Mom can defend herself pretty well." Robin cocked her head, trying to catch his gaze. "Why are you so worried about her?"

David stopped pacing. "Why?" He threw his hands up in the air. "Because the first day I saw her in Paris she collapsed and then the minute she's back on her feet she starts chasing after Faison." David stopped long enough to roll his eyes. "Am I the only one to realize that she's pushing herself dangerously close to a breakdown?"

Robin cringed, wishing he didn't have this irritating habit of voicing her own worst fears aloud. "Mom's tough, okay? She's been through worse than this."

David rested his hands on his hips and offered her a cynical smile. "Thanks. Knowing that makes me feel so much better."

"When will Alex be well enough to leave Moscow?" Robin asked, changing the subject. "Did Mom say?"

David shook his head. "No. She couldn't tell me much about her condition."

"Why don't you go to Moscow?" Robin suggested. "You could be with Mom _and_ you could make sure Alex got the best medical care available."

"No," David answered. "I couldn't leave you and Leah here alone. Not with Faison still out there. He could come after either of you."

"Sean's already set up someone to watch the apartment, you don't have to worry about us."

"I won't leave you two here alone," he repeated in a tone that suggested the topic wasn't open for discussion.

A sudden idea lifted made Robin smile. "What if…" she started. "What if we weren't here alone?"

_State Hospital #18, Moscow, Russia _

_-_

Andrei entered the room quietly. If Alex was asleep, he didn't want to wake her.

She needed rest. That much he could tell without a degree in medicine.

Maybe several days worth would be enough to get rid of the circles under her eyes.

He debated it.

No. It would take more than a few days, he decided.

He was glad that Dimitri would make sure she got lots of rest. Dimitri was too nice sometimes, Andrei thought. But when it came to the things he cared about, his father could be as fierce as anyone he'd ever known.

And Andrei couldn't think of anything Dimitri cared about more than Alex.

Dimitri would also make sure the kitchen staff at Vadsel would feed her lots of hearty stews and meats, to make up for the weight she had lost. Andrei thought she was already too skinny as it was. But now she looked ill. Thin in the way that some of the sick girls at the orphanage had been thin.

He had been too skinny too, when he first arrived at Vadsel, and Dimitri had done the same. Although he had protested at the time, Andrei now smiled at the memory. It was the best food he had ever tasted. Of course, back then he hadn't been ready to give Dimitri the satisfaction of telling him that.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Alex looking at him, just before closing her eyes again.

"You are not sleeping, are you?" he whispered, approaching her bedside.

"No."

She was always honest with him and he was relieved to see that hadn't changed.

"Do you want to talk?" he asked her, pulling up a chair next to her bed.

She shook her head just enough to let him know the answer was no.

"That's okay," he said, leaning back in his chair. "We don't have to talk. I will stay here and be quiet. Until you go back to sleep."

She opened her eyes again. "I want to be alone, Andrei."

Andrei frowned. Her eyes were so sad. He wondered what they had seen in the last few weeks. Wondered then, if others could read in _his_ eyes what he had seen during his years at the orphanage, the same way he could speculate what she might have seen from looking at hers.

He loved her eyes because they always gave away more than she was willing to tell. If he wanted to know what she really thought or felt all he had to do was take one glance into them. But now what he saw in them broke his heart. It made him feel angry and powerless.

"Do you remember that night at Vadsel?" he asked her. "When I went to sleep in the stables, and you come to look for me?"

She nodded, almost imperceptibly. "Yeah, I remember."

"I told you I wanted to be alone too. But I was lying." He smiled. "I am glad you stayed with me. It was nice you stayed."

She said nothing and Andrei took it to mean that she didn't mind if he talked.

"Before you found me, I tried to ride Tempus. I had a bruise because he throws me off. You cleaned it up. Then in the morning, before the sun comes out, you took me to ride Tempus. You showed me how." The memory of that day was so clear in his mind, it could have happened only hours ago. He still remembered wrapping his arms around her waist, holding on tight; mesmerized by the power of the horse they rode. _His_ horse now.

"I will never forget that day."

The words made her cry and Andrei wished he could retract them. He didn't want to make her cry. It was the last thing he wanted to do.

"I love you, Andrei. I love you so very much. But I _can't_…"

"It's okay," he said gently, bending down to kiss her cheek. "You don't have to say anything. Just go to sleep. And me, I will be here with you. Okay?"

"Okay," she relented. Finally.

He pulled the room's lone chair up against the bed, next to her, leaned back in it and waited for her to fall asleep.

He felt a sense of peace knowing that she was back in his life. He didn't need words or touch. Knowing she was here was enough.

Andrei yawned.

He leaned back in the chair and he waited a long time before letting his eyes close.


	53. Chapter 53

**Chapter 53**

_State Hospital #18, Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Dimitri Marick opened the door of the hospital room and saw that both his wife and son were asleep. They looked as though they hadn't moved since he peaked into the room late last night.

He was pleased but at the same time envious that Andrei had more success than he did in convincing Alex that she shouldn't be alone.

Twisted into a semi-fetal position, one of Andrei's legs dangled over the chair's armrest while the rest of his small frame curled into the seat.

Dimitri tiptoed into the room, squeezing Andrei's shoulder.

The gesture woke him up and Andrei stretched.

"Why don't you head back to the hotel and get some real sleep and eat some breakfast?" Dimitri whispered. "I'll stay here now."

Andrei yawned, pushing himself out of the chair. His legs were wobbly and he made a face. "My leg is sleeping," he mouthed. He didn't protest when Dimitri gave him a handful of bills to take a taxi back to the hotel.

"I will come back soon," was all he said. "Then you can take break."

Dimitri watched him as he stumbled out of the hospital room, massaging his leg to restore its circulation. It was understood that they would take care of her together.

'We've become a family,' he thought, watching him leave. 'The three of us.'

Dimitri sat down in the same chair Andrei had slept in and pulled out the three items he'd put in his pocket before leaving the hotel this morning.

They were the three things Alex had removed before heading out to the bridge in Paris to meet Cesar Faison. Her watch, her wedding band and the necklace and horseshoe-shaped pendant he'd given her the night before.

_Tempus Fugit, Amor Manet. _

Dimitri ran his index finger over the inscription on the pendant.

Time flees. Love remains.

Was it really possible that night in Paris took place only a few weeks ago?

"_I wish I had your way with words,"_ she'd told him that night.

He'd told her that it would have been a redundant skill.

"_Your eyes say more than I could ever express with words."_

They spoke about his trip to New York, about the latest results from tracks in Austria, Hungary, France and England, and, of course, about Andrei.

It was an utterly ordinary conversation.

And then, in an equally ordinary moment, he'd given her the necklace. While the candle flickered between them.

He remembered Alex pulling out her glasses to read the inscription and the smile it had brought to her face.

_Tempus Fugit, Amor Manet. _

She had loved it. Loved its double entendre.

"_I'm not a humble man, Alex." _

She'd chuckled at the understatement.

"_But sometimes, your love, it humbles me. To think that someone like you, chose to marry me."_

She had wiped away an errant tear. _"God, you're making me cry."_

"_That was the last thing I wanted to do…but I wanted you to know, now matter what happens, how many arguments we have in the future, that my love will always remain."_

"_Amor Manet."_

"_Yes, amor manet. But what I really want to say is that I want us to grow old together."._

"_We will." _She had raised a glass in the candlelight. _"To love, and future grey hairs."_

On the bed next to him, Alex gasped, yanking him out of the past and catapulting him back into the present.

Something had jolted her awake and she was pushing herself off the bed. Dimitri saw her trying to rip a bandage off her arm. She partly succeeded, tearing off a good chunk just below her elbow.

_"Get it off! Now!"_

Dimitri jumped up and grabbed her wrists, before she could do any more damage.

"Alex! Stop it!" He tried to push her back down onto the bed. "You're going to hurt yourself."

Her eyes were wide open, terrified and pleading. "Take it off….please…_take it_ _off!"_

She struggled against his grip with surprising strength, managing to twist one of her arms free.

"Alex, darling…you had a dream. That's all. Stop fighting me." He tried to keep his voice calm, even though stopping her from injuring herself took a sizeable effort. "Alex, look at me," he insisted.

Dimitri debated whether to press the blue button next to her bed for help but decided against it. He still didn't know what had prompted the doctor to put the restraints on her earlier and he didn't want them to see her like this. Out of control.

If anyone could calm her, it was him. He'd dealt with her nightmares before.

"Alex, darling…look at me," he repeated, forcing her to focus on him. "It was just a dream. I'm here with you and you're safe."

He felt her body relax, her arms no longer fighting his grip.

Her expression changed, from one of terror to one of awareness. She gasped for air. "Get off me…please. Get off."

Dimitri nodded, still holding on to her wrists, loosening his grip. "I'm not going to hurt you, darling. You know that." He paused, his eyes never leaving her gaze. "Promise me you'll do the same?"

"Yeah…" She bit her lip. "I promise."

He kissed her hands before letting go of them. "I love you."

She pulled away from his grasp, visibly exhausted from what had transpired. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry I scared you."

"You don't have to apologize."

Dimitri saw the loose bandage on her arm, and then something odd caught his eye. He moved to take a closer look. More than just a burn scar on her skin, he saw a distinctive pattern.

Letters.

Seeing his stare, Alex pulled her arm away.

"Darling, let me see…" Gingerly he got a hold of her arm, slowly able to make out the letters.

_n d r a. _

"What happened to your arm, Alex?" he asked, puzzled. "Did Faison _do_ this?"

Alex answered him with silence and Dimitri moved a finger along the bandage, gently pushing back what was still covered to reveal another two letters.

_x a n d r a. _

"What the hell is…?"

"It's…it's my name." Alex told him. "After Faison found out who I was, he wanted to make sure he wouldn't mistake me for Anna again."

Nausea rose in his throat. Dimitri suddenly felt sick.

The letters of her name were permanently branded onto her skin. A lifelong reminder of what happened at Alexei Estate.

Dimitri swallowed, suddenly unable to look at her.

'What kind of monster…' Livid anger replaced the sick feeling in his stomach.

He imagined the pain she'd felt, making it hard to hide his rage.

"Alex…I'm…I'm going to get a doctor. To fix the bandage you tore off," he told her. His voice sounded foreign to his ears.

"You can't fix it," she said softly.

"The burns…they're still raw," he tried to explain, unable to look at her arm any longer. "You need to cover them…"

"No," she got a hold of his hand. "No doctor. Please. Just stay with me."

He couldn't. The air in the room was suffocating him.

_How could stand to look at her when he'd failed her so miserably?_

He loosened her grip on his hand. "I'll be back with the doctor."

"Dimitri…don't blame yourself." She could read his mind as well as he could read hers. "Please stay." Her voice choked and he thought she might cry.

"I'll be back," he promised her, leaving the room.

_Anna's Apartment, Paris, France_

_-_

"Are you sure you don't mind doing this?" David Hayward asked the Irishman.

Dan O'Toole flashed Robin a grin. "No. I don't mind at all. In fact, I don't think I've had much of a chance to spend with Leah since I watched her come into this world."

"I don't think this is such a good idea after all," David hesitated.

"Would you stop it?" Robin groaned, carrying her sister in her arms. "Mom needs you. You said so yourself."

"So do you two."

"Dan is not just putting surveillance on the apartment, he's staying here, _inside it_, with us. I hate to break this to you, but we're probably safer now than when you were 'guarding' us," Robin reminded him. "Now move it, so you don't miss your flight!"

David took Leah from her arms, kissing her forehead. "I'm gonna bring your Mom back with me, okay, princess?"

"You do that," Robin agreed, glancing at Dan.

With Leah still in his arms, David pulled Robin into his embrace, kissing her on the cheek. "I owe you one for arranging this…"

Robin blushed. "No you don't. Just look after Mom and bring her and Alex back safe."

He nodded. Serious. "I will. Promise."

_State Hospital #18, Moscow _

_-_

"It's better now, isn't it?" he asked her after the doctor left.

Alex nodded, indifferent to the fresh dressing on her scar, but not wanting to deprive him of the need to make something right. "Yes, thanks."

"Is there anything else you need?"

"No. Really...I'm fine."

Outwardly, he seemed calm and if she hadn't known him as well as she did, she wouldn't have known it was a facade for her benefit, one that took considerable effort on his part. But she did. And she hated the pretence.

"Dimitri…" she started.

"I brought you something," he interrupted, as though sensing she was about to broach a subject he wasn't ready to discuss. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out three items.

Her watch, her wedding band and the beautiful necklace and horse-shoe shaped pendant he had given her in Paris.

Alex reached out for them and cupped them into her palm. "I missed these."

Dimitri wrapped his hand around hers, kissing it, as he closed his eyes. "I missed you so much." His hand was shaking, betraying what his face tried to hide. "It's going to be okay, darling. I'm going to ask the doctor if you're well enough to be moved and then I'm going fly you home to Vadsel. You remember that doctor that treated old Karolina when she had her bout of pneumonia last winter? He practically moved into the estate…"

Alex bit her lip. "Dimitri, I won't _need_ a doctor once I leave here…"

"You need time to get well. And you can't possibly do it here in this hospital. Have you noticed that the bed you're on is rusting? There's a crack in the window and…"

Tears welled up in her eyes. "Dimitri, stop it…"

"Darling," he still held on to her hand. "I promise you everything is going to be okay. However long it takes, that doesn't matter. And if we have to find a specialist to get rid of the scar, we'll find one. You remember, when I first came to see you, don't you?" he asked, brushing a tear from her eye. "I was dying and you found a way to save my life…"

"This is _not_ the same…" she said softly, interrupting him this time. "You don't _owe_ me for curing your illness."

"I'm going to make sure…" he repeated, putting his arms around her when she moved to sit up.

He loved her so much.

She saw the fear in his eyes. The fear of not being able to make things right.

Alex said nothing else, letting him envelop her in his embrace. When he helped her lie back down, she told him she was exhausted and closed her eyes, feigning sleep until he left the room.

She didn't care about the scar. Instead she curled up, moving a hand to her stomach, thinking about the life that was growing inside her. Cesar Faison's child.

'How are you going to fix _that_?'

_Later_

_In the waiting room_

_-_

Andrei Marick spotted his father sitting alone, holding a cup of coffee in his hands. There were other people in the waiting room but Dimitri had distanced himself from them as much as he could, sitting in a corner chair, pushed up against the wall.

"Is Alex sleeping?"

Dimitri nodded.

"How come you are not staying with her?" Andrei asked, unnerved by Dimitri's faraway stare.

Dimitri turned to him. "I went to speak with her doctor. I want to take her home to Vadsel as soon as possible."

Andrei sat down next to him, noticing that his coffee cup was empty. "That's a good idea," he agreed. "Alex, she loves it there."

Dimitri said nothing.

"Are you okay?" Andrei asked him. "Is _Alex_ okay?"

Dimitri answered neither question, the frown lines along his eyes deepening.

"Hey," Andrei nudged him. "Is something wrong?"

Dimitri met his eyes again. "He hurt her, Andrei. He _really_ hurt her."

"What do you mean?" he asked, narrowing his thick brows.

"He branded her name into her arm."

"What?" Andrei didn't understand.

"He branded her with a hot iron, like an animal…"

Andrei's pupils widened in shock. "Does it…does it hurt very much?"

His father didn't answer him.

"I'm afraid to ask her what else happened when she was with him. I'm afraid…" Dimitri's voice broke. "I'm scared to ask, Andrei, because I'm afraid that she'll tell me…and I won't know what to do…"

He was weeping now.

Andrei put his arms around him. "Yes, you will. You will know what to do," he assured him. He smiled a lop-sided smile. "And if you don't, Alex then will understand. She always says to me that she is smarter than you."

_British Airways Flight 118, en route from London to Moscow_

_-_

"You can't sleep on planes either, huh?" the woman next to him asked.

"Yeah," David Hayward mumbled. She must have noticed him flip aimlessly through the in-flight magazine that was tucked into the seat pocket in front of him. He wished he hadn't made his restlessness as obvious as to make her think he wanted a conversation.

Small talk with a stranger was, in fact, the very last thing he felt like engaging in. He hoped his monosyllabic grunt of a reply made that clear.

"Neither can I," she replied. "Knowing there's a 30,000 foot drop underneath our seats always makes me sort of uneasy, if you know what I mean." She had an American accent. It sounded southern, but it wasn't distinct enough that he could narrow it down to a state. "Are you going to Moscow for business or pleasure?" she probed.

David turned around to face her, taking his first good look at the woman sitting next to him. She wore a red two-piece suit, with a bright matching lipstick that made her generous smile seem larger than it was. Her blonde shoulder-length hair was held in perfect place by amounts of hairspray that would undoubtedly be considered environmentally hazardous in most European nations.

"Business," he mumbled.

"Well, of course you are," she agreed enthusiastically. "Does anybody really visit Moscow for pleasure?"

David shrugged, hoping maybe that no answer at all was the way to go.

"Oh dear!" she cringed with a squeal, grabbing his arm with her hand well-manicured hand. He noticed that her nail polish perfectly matched both her suit and lipstick. "I'm _so_ sorry. Did I just put my foot in my mouth? Tell me you're not a Muscovite?"

David managed a chuckle. "No, it's okay…I'm not."

A sigh of relief draped the woman's face, followed by another smile. "Oh good lord, you're American! I couldn't tell before, but now…lemme guess, East Coast?"

David sighed. "Pennsylvania, by way of California."

"What a coincidence. I was in Philly for work, only last week." The woman's smile broadened. "What kind of business brings you to Russia?"

"I'm going to see my wife."

"Well, isn't that funny, 'cause I'm going there to see my husband, except…" she paused. "He doesn't know I'm coming."

Another chuckle lifted his cheeks. "Neither does my wife."

The woman laughed. A deep, hearty sound. "Let's hope they don't mind."

"Your husband would be a fool if he did," he told her, remembering the kinds of clichés he used to utter with such conviction that women actually believed them.

The blonde woman blushed. "Well, aren't you a charmer."

David felt a twinge of guilt. "It's the truth," he mumbled.

"My husband is helping a friend of ours in Moscow," she explained. "But this friend is involved in some dangerous business, so I got tired of sitting at home and worrying about both of them."

"I know what you mean…" David mumbled.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name…"

"It's David." David held out his hand, offering her a vaguely polite smirk. "David Hayward."

Five brightly painted fingernails wrapped themselves around his hand with surprising strength. "I'm Tiffany," she told him, smiling. "Tiffany Hill."

_State Hospital #18, Moscow, Russia_

_-_

"_So. Did your little failed escapade finally make you realize that you're no match for your sister, Sasha?" _

Alex wondered how the same despicable voice always somehow wormed its way into her head. Wondered whether it would do so for the rest of her life.

She shut her eyes tightly. "Go away, Mum…"

Laughter filled the room. _"Truth hurts, sweetheart, doesn't it? I should know."_

Alex ignored her.

"_Look at you. Lying here in a hospital bed, hurt and weak and losing your mind. It's pathetic. Anna would've killed the bastard." _

'Anna would've killed _you_ by now,' she thought.

"_Sasha, look at me when I'm speaking to you!" _

A hand reached out for her arm and Alex opened her eyes with a gasp.

"Mum!"

She sat up in a panic only to see that her hospital room was empty.

"It's your imagination…" she told herself out loud, feeling the racing beat of her heart in her throat. There was no one here. Dimitri must have stepped outside and Charlotte _couldn't_ be here.

Yes, she could.

Faison had secured her release from prison. Her mother was free to come and go as she pleased now.

'Stop it,' Alex thought, glancing wildly around the room. 'Stop letting her drive you mad.'

She threw her legs over the side of the bed, grateful that its bars were already lowered.

Stiff and sore, she walked awkwardly towards the washroom door, like a child taking its first steps.

"Get a grip," she hissed under her breath, when her knees started to shake, terrified that maybe Charlotte Devane was lurking inside the bathroom.

Instead it wasn't her mother's face that shocked her. It was her own; staring back at her from the mirror above the sink.

Her long hair was a tangled mess and the only colour in the greyish pallor of her sunken face was the deep, dark blue underneath her eyes.

It was like looking at a stranger.

Anna's layered cut framed her face. Thick blonde highlights mingled with the dark brown she was accustomed to.

The sight made her cry.

"I'm so tired of being you, little sis," she told the unforgiving mirror.

She reached to turn off the lights, not wanting to look at the reflection a moment longer and when she did she spotted a set of keys lying on the floor.

Alex picked them up, recognizing the key chain. A chunky, red Swiss Army knife with Andrei's initials engraved on it. It was a gift from Dimitri.

Andrei must have dropped it while he was in here, Alex realised.

Holding the pocketknife in her hand, she pulled open the blade and then flipped it back into the knife again.

The light was still on and it was still Anna's face that stared back at her from the mirror.

"I'm not you, Anna," she whispered. "Not anymore."

She pulled out the scissors from the pocketknife and ran a finger along its blades.

Unable to take her eyes off the mirror, Alex brought the scissors up to her hair and started to cut it.

It was a drastic decision, but maybe, Alex thought, maybe it would free her from seeing her sister each time she looked into the mirror. She couldn't picture Anna with short hair.

Her hair was thick and the scissors were small, and it was a slow, tedious process, hampered by her shaking hands and the tears that started to cloud her vision.

An odd satisfaction filled her when she saw the blonde highlights fall to the ground, along with the other, darker strands.

So absorbed was she in what she was doing, she didn't hear the sound of the door opening.

Alex heard a footstep and when she turned around, she saw that Anna's image had left the mirror and was now standing in the bathroom alongside her.

Her twin sister looked at her in shock.

"Alex? What are you doing?"


	54. Chapter 54

**Chapter 54**

_State Hospital #18, Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Anna Devane moved a hand to her mouth in shock.

"Alex? What are you doing?" Then she reached out to her twin sister. "Are you okay?"

Alex was holding a pair of scissors in her hand. Or, more accurately, the small, retractable scissors found on a pocket knife.

There was no mistaking what she was doing.

Thick strands of her hair were lying on the floor and in the sink. Her sister was cutting off her hair and, from the looks of it, Anna had interrupted her in the process. Half of her long hair still draped one of her shoulders, but on the other side of her head it was gone, cut away in a jagged, messy line, where a couple of strands were missed.

Embarrassment made Alex's cheeks flush. "I bet this doesn't look very good."

Anna didn't know what to say. Nor could she stop staring.

Alexandra, her beautiful sister, who carried herself with such effortless elegance that she'd often made Anna feel strangely ordinary when she stood in the same room as her.

Alexandra, the brilliant scientist, who was always there when she needed her. Unflappable. Cool. Composed.

All the things that Anna often wished she were.

The woman that stood in front of her now looked pale, afraid and frail. Alex stood uneasily, holding on to the sink for support. Dark, deep circles rimmed her sad eyes.

Anna wanted to take her sister in her arms and never let go.

"Alex…" she managed. "Are you…are you alright?"

Alex gave her a lop-sided smile. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I was getting really tired of looking like you."

Anna bit her lip to fight back tears.

"Please don't look at me like I'm crazy…please, I just…"

Anna stepped forward and at last wrapped her arms around her sister. "I would never think that, Alex…you don't have to explain anything. I'm just so grateful to see you…"

Alex returned the embrace, her eyes misty. "I missed you."

In spite of their differences, Anna felt that familiar sense of wholeness when Alex was close.

Anna wished there was a way she could transfer all the energy she had left onto her sister.

"You look like you shouldn't be standing up," Anna said gently. She slipped her arm underneath her sister's. "Come, let me help you lie down."

Alex didn't resist, holding on to her as Anna led her back to the bed.

"Are you in any pain?"

"No more than I'd expect," Alex replied, unwilling to elaborate.

Anna frowned, pulling up a chair beside her sister.

"Really, sis. I'll be fine." Alex reached out to squeeze her hand, wanting to comfort her, when really it should have been the other way around. "Tell me how Leah is doing?"

"She's…she's good. She recovered beautifully. She's fine and healthy."

"And Robin?"

"I was so afraid for you," Anna interrupted, not giving her the chance to change the subject. "Tell me, Alex…what happened to you when you were with him?"

"I love you for that, you know. For not dancing around the things you really want to say."

"He hurt you, didn't he?"

Alex shook her head. "Faison was livid when he found out the truth. He's so completely obsessed with you, Anna. Knowing that, I can't even blame him for his rage when he found out who I was. When he found out that I'd been deceiving him for weeks. He had to get back at me somehow so…" Alex glanced at her bandaged arm. "So he…"

"I know…" Anna said softly, the words getting caught in her throat. "I know what he did."

"I wanted to kill him," Alex told her. "But, what he did, Anna, it's nothing more than primal human nature. He'd been betrayed, by the one person whom he'd have given his life for. He had to lash out at the person responsible."

"I _will_ kill him for this," Anna breathed. "He _will_ pay for this."

"Anna, don't…"

"What he did, Alex. You wouldn't do to an animal."

"And you going after him now for revenge and retribution, what's _that_ going to change?" She pointed to her arm. "It won't make this go away."

"I can't let him get away with this_. I can't!_"

"If that man makes you lose any more precious time with the people you love, than he's truly won."

"But don't you see? He has already won!" Anna didn't bother to wipe away the angry tears that fell down her face. "He killed Robert! He took away ten years of my life when he nearly tried to kill me! I missed my daughter growing up because I couldn't remember who I was, and when I finally got my life back in order, he came back and tried to kill my little girl by injecting her with a virus just to blackmail me!" Just looking at her sister, nearly broke her heart, "Cesar Faison was always my battle to fight, Alex. _My_ mistake. Not yours…_never_ yours." She sat down on the rim of the bed. Exhausted. "I wish…I _really_ wish you hadn't gone to that bridge that night."

Alex put an arm around her shoulders. "This wasn't your fault, Anna. I made that decision all on my own."

Anna brushed off her tears. "I know you did, and I know that your decision was what saved Leah's life."

"Then leave it at that," Alex said quietly.

"No…" Anna shook her head. "As long as Faison is out there. He's a threat, and I won't stand for it. It's time he paid."

Anna hugged her sister tightly, grateful that Alex didn't bother to convince her otherwise, this time. Nor did she tell her that everything would somehow be alright.

Because Anna knew it wouldn't.

_Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of the Congo_

_-_

Sandrine stared out the hospital window absentmindedly, her thoughts drifting back to the flights from Moscow to Kinshasa.

She remembered the seemingly endless nausea-inducing turbulence on the twin-engine Aeroflot Tupolev from Moscow to Riyadh. Followed by a four-hour delay in Riyadh, more than doubling their three-hour layover.

By the time they boarded the Saudi Arabian Airlines flight for the DRC, Robert looked like death. He hadn't touched food in twenty-four hours and his skin was clammy and cold.

He was noticeably uncomfortable in his seat, drifting between restless sleep and incoherent wakefulness. Sandrine was grateful they had let him board the aircraft at all. Grateful that they bought her story that he was stricken by nothing more than food poisoning.

By the time they arrived in Kinshasa he could barely open his eyes.

He collapsed before he got off the plane.

"Who'd you have to bribe to get a private room?"

The words stirred her from her thoughts, and Sandrine turned around to face him with a smile of relief. "You think you're the only one with connections?"

Finally awake after nearly fifteen hours asleep, Robert gave her a lop-sided grin. "I don't remember coming here."

"I bet you don't." Sandrine's smile faded. "You scared me. I should never have let you talk me into leaving Moscow so soon."

"But we made it didn't we?"

"Barely." The doctors who had admitted him had told her that his bullet wound was infected. Again. That he was severely dehydrated.

They had used other terms too. Describing his organ functions. And how the infection had affected his blood.

All Sandrine had wanted to know was whether he would be alright. Whether he would recover fully.

"So…" he managed. "Am I going to live?"

Sandrine frowned. The doctor had told her he expected Robert to make a full recovery. If he stayed put and took it easy, that is. "Maybe. If you stop being so stubborn and stupid. You're not twenty anymore, you know."

He chuckled. Then winced. "That's your way of saying I should just do as you say."

Sandrine shrugged her shoulders. "Try it. It might keep you in better shape."

He reached for her hand. "Thank you…for what you did."

Sandrine squeezed it. "Don't thank me. I love you."

Robert said nothing and the silence made it possible to hear the footsteps of the nurses and doctors that passed by his room in the hallway outside.

"What now?" Sandrine asked, not sure she wanted the answer.

_State Hospital #18, Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Anna stared at her sister, lying on the bed, struggling to keep her eyes open. She didn't know where Dimitri had gone but she was grateful for the unexpected time alone with Alex.

"Anna…" she heard her say.

"Shhh…stop talking," she chided her. "You need to rest." Anna sat on the rim of the hospital bed, one of her hands clasping that of her sister.

Alex's face was serious, ignoring the idea of sleep. "Dimitri wants to take me back to Vadsel," she told her.

"You don't want to go?" Anna asked. "I thought you loved it there."

"I do," Alex said quietly. "Very much."

"But?"

"I slept with Faison."

The confession came out of nowhere, hitting her like a slap.

Anna stared at her in shock. Not understanding.

"Alex, did he…?"

"No. He didn't. He didn't rape me," Alex answered before Anna had a chance to ask. "When Faison kidnapped me he located Sean's tracking chip. After that, days went by and then days became weeks…I didn't think waiting for you to find me was an option anymore. I had to get away from him, Anna. I _had_ to. For the sake of my sanity."

Anna flinched, her heart breaking. "I'm not sure I understand what you're…"

"Yes, you do," Alex cut her off. "You do know what I'm trying to say. In order to buy myself a certain amount of freedom, I had to gain his trust. I had to convince him I was willing to entertain the thought of sharing a future with him."

"Alex…" Anna didn't know what to say. There were no words.

Tears fell down her sister's pale face. "I don't know how to tell Dimitri, or even if I can."

"Oh Alex," Anna wanted to envelop her sister in her arms. It took all her willpower to fight back her own tears again. "Dimitri has to understand."

Alex gave her a sad smile. "Dimitri is a proud man. He'll forgive me almost anything, I know...but this is different. I slept with another man."

Anna looked at her in disbelief. "Alex we're not talking about an affair! You were fighting for your life!"

"No," Alex corrected her. "I wasn't. I needed to get away from him, yes, but it wasn't a question of survival. It was an irrational fear of losing my mind if I didn't get away _soon_ enough."

"You're wrong, sis. With every day you stayed at his estate, you increased your chances of being found out. It _was_ a question of survival, and Dimitri _has_ to understand that you did whatever it took!"

Alex reached for her hand, sitting up with difficulty. "I don't think you understand what I'm trying to tell you…"

"Dimitri loves you so much," Anna tried. "You should have seen him when we were searching for you, he…"

"I don't doubt his love, Anna. I'll never doubt it," Alex explained. "In my entire life, I've never felt as loved as I have with Dimitri, and it's because of that, that I can't tell him…I couldn't stand to have him hide his anger, because he feels he should. Because he feels that forgiving me is the right thing to do given the circumstances, or worst of all because he feels sorry for me…do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

Anna shook her head. "No… Alex, I don't."

"If I tell him what I did, it changes us forever, Anna, and I'm not sure I could stand that. Dimitri might forgive me, because he loves me so much, but right now I don't know if I can stand knowing that he'll never see at me the same way he used to."

Anna moved to wipe away the tears from her sisters cheeks. "Oh Alex…"

Alex gave her a gentle push.

"I'm not telling you this because I want your sympathy, little sis," she said calmly, in spite of her tears. "I'm telling you because I need you to help me."

_Hacienda Dos Estrellas, Argentina_

_-_

Cesar Faison pushed the thick curtain aside and stared out onto the grasslands of La Pampa. There was nothing outside but endless prairie and unrelenting blue skies.

An airstrip next to the hacienda marked the only paved road within a hundred square mile radius.

With the exception of a live-in staff of three and Jan Holstrom, Cesar Faison was alone.

In every sense of the word.

"How long will we stay here?" Holstrom asked, entering the room.

Faison closed the curtain, blocking the vast expanse of blue sky from his view.

"Until we leave."

The Swede pursed his lips. "As you wish, sir."

Faison picked up a Cuban cigarillo and lit it. "We'll stay until things quiet down on the Russian front. Then we'll return to Europe. Brussels, I think." He looked at his assistant with a bitter smile. "It's what you kept suggesting while we were still in Paris, wasn't it? That we stay in Europe but out of Anna's path."

Jan pushed his wire rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose, from where they threatened to slip again. He still hadn't regained the weight he lost after his accident in Paris.

Perhaps a couple of weeks in the isolated Pampas of Argentina would do him good.

He did care for the man, Faison realized. Maybe as much as he cared for anyone.

"Does this mean…" Jan stammered. "Does this mean that it's over?"

"What do you mean?" Faison asked. He inhaled on his cigarillo, enjoying the scent of tobacco that filled his nostrils.

"Is it finally over between you and Anna Devane?"

Faison bristled at the question. Were it anyone but Jan and he would have ordered him out of the room. "It never began, did it?"

"I don't understand…"

Faison took another drag, blowing the smoke into the room. "I believe Alexandra Marick was telling me the truth when she said that Anna had no idea that her sister went to take her place that night on the Pont D'Arcole in Paris."

Jan stood in silence.

"Anna didn't meet me that night, because she couldn't," Faison explained. "Not because she didn't want to. She was as much at the mercy of her sister's and Sean Donely's machinations as I was."

"But, sir…if you saw her now, do you think Anna would forgive you for what you did to Alexandra?"

Faison frowned. He was tired of questions.

"Anna and I never stood a chance."

"But if…?"

"Please leave the room," Faison cut him off. "I need some time to myself. It's been a long flight and I'm tired."

Jan Holstrom nodded. Meekly. It was a natural gesture. He had done it a thousand times before.

"Sir…" he added.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I'm sorry things turned out the way they did."

Faison said nothing, waiting until his assistant left before turning back to the window.

He pulled the curtains aside again, drawn to the endless emptiness outside the window.

He took another drag of his cigarillo.

"I'm sorry too," he whispered to no one. "You have no idea how much."

_Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of the Congo_

_-_

"I need to meet with the family of Albert St. Jacques and Moise Ngoma," Robert told her. "To explain to them what happened in Russia. To make sure that the Bureau compensates them."

Concern etched Sandrine's face. "Do you have any idea how difficult that will be for you? Moise's wife was pregnant when you left for Russia with him."

"It's my duty to tell them," Robert repeated. Merely talking to her took its toll on him, and Sandrine wanted to tell him to stop.

"The doctor said no stress," she mumbled. "No work. And no stress."

"It has to come from me, Sandi. I owe them that much," he told her. "They died because of my personal vendetta against Faison."

Sandrine squeezed his hand, knowing it was futile to try and convince him otherwise. To try and protect him.

She didn't want to say the next words. But she knew they had to be said.

It had to end.

"When you are well, you need to tell Anna and Robin that you are alive."

A part of her hoped he would refuse. That he had changed his mind, convinced it was for the best.

"I know," was what he said instead. "They have a right to know."

"Are you…" the words got caught in her throat. "Are you going to travel to Paris to tell them?"

He didn't have to answer. His eyes told her what he was going to say before he said it. "Yes. As soon as I've met with Albert and Moise's family. As soon as I'm well enough to leave this place without keeling over, I'm going to Paris to face Anna and Robin."

Sandrine swallowed. She wanted to be strong. To let him know she understood. That she would stand by his side. But it was next to impossible.

"I'm afraid, Robert," she admitted. "I'm afraid you're going to see them and not come back to me."

She wanted him to tell her that it wouldn't happen. That it wasn't possible.

Instead, she felt him reach for her hand, pulling it up to his lips.

"I love you, Sandi," was all he said.

_State Hospital Number 18, Moscow, Russia_

_-_

Anna looked at her sister in disbelief. "Alex…what you're asking me to do. I can't do…"

Alex's gaze was unflinching. "I've never asked you for anything, sis."

"Alex, I don't think that you're in the right state of…"

Her sister cut her off. "I've never asked you for anything, but I'm asking you now. _Help me_."


	55. Chapter 55

**Chapter 55**

_State Hospital #18, Moscow, Russia_

_- _

"What's going on here?" a male voice asked, out of nowhere.

Anna turned around, startled. Neither she nor Alex heard Dimitri enter the hospital room. She cringed when she saw his shocked expression.

"Darling," he said softly, staring at his wife. "What happened…?"

Anna wanted to explain, moving a hand onto his forearm. "Dimitri…please, will you come outside with me for a moment?" Anna caught her sister's eyes. They were afraid of what Anna might say to Dimitri. Anna returned her glance wordlessly; reassuring Alex that what had transpired in the room, before Dimitri came, would remain between them.

Anna didn't need to say it aloud. She knew Alex understood.

It was Dimitri who didn't.

He brushed off her arm. "I don't think so…I think you're the one who needs to leave the room, Anna."

"Dimitri, I…"

"Please. Go."

It an order, not a request.

Anna bit her tongue, looking back at her sister. "I'll be right outside…"

She left the room feeling as angry as she was confused.

No matter what Alex said, Anna was certain Marick would find a way to blame her for what Alex had done. For the fact that her sister's hair was a disturbing mess- half short, half long.

Yet her sister's decision to chop off her hair wasn't nearly as disturbing as the request that followed it.

Or the odd promise she asked for afterwards.

"_I need you to do something else for me, Anna. Promise me you'll find Roger Saunders. To thank him for me. Please." _

Her sister's face had been so serious. So intense.

"_Promise me, that you'll look for him?"_

'What did Sandrine's partner have to do with anything just now?' Anna wondered. Sean would track him down soon enough, Anna was certain. The WSB was his domain and god knows they both had a handful of questions for him. But there was no rush.

Anna's confusion mounted as she glanced down the hospital corridor and thought she was seeing things.

She pressed her eyes shut, certain the image would be gone when she reopened them.

Instead of disappearing, the man came closer, his face widening into a smile.

Anna stared at him, aghast. "David?"

_Inside the room_

_-_

Looking at her now, Dimitri thought his heart would break all over again.

He moved to wrap his arms around her, pulling Alex towards him, gently kissing her cheek when she didn't resist. He cupped the back of her neck into the palm of his hand, relieved to see her eyes as perceptive as always.

Alex might have been desperate to shed her sister's looks, but she wasn't losing her mind. He knew her well enough to know that.

"You want to tell me what happened?" he asked softly.

Alex shook her head. "It's not what you think."

He managed a smile. "I don't know _what_ to think."

"I'm sorry…you must think…"

Dimitri put a finger on his lips, running a hand through her shortened hair. "Don't apologize. Just tell me next time you're in a rush for a haircut." He picked up Andrei's pocketknife from the floor. "I might set you up with a decent pair of scissors. Or a fancy hairdresser even."

She managed a smile, brushing off a tear with the back of her hand. "It's awful, isn't it?"

Before she was aware of it, he'd guided her back to the bed. Nudging her to sit down. "It's…it's different."

He held the pocketknife in his hands, flipping it open. "Do you mind if I finish the other half?"

"I guess you should, huh?"

Dimitri cut off the remaining strands, hating the way the act toyed with his emotions. Alex had beautiful hair and he loved running his fingers through it. Loved the way it felt when it brushed against his face when they made love. The fact that sh'd always worn her thick, chestnut-coloured hair long had to be proof that she was aware that it accented her good looks.

'Knowing that, what does it mean that you decided to ruin and discard it in a matter of minutes?' he thought sadly.

The cut wasn't perfect, but when Dimitri was satisfied that her hair was even enough to no longer turn heads, he set the pocket-knife back down. He looked at Alex and pushed a wayward strand behind her ears. He managed a lopsided smile. The haircut made her look younger. "There. Much better."

"Thank you."

Dimitri kissed her cheek. "Anytime."

He waited for her to say something of her own volition. When she didn't he squeezed her hand. "One of our jets is en route to Moscow," he told her. "I've spoken to the doc in charge and he feels you're well enough to head back to Hungary as early as tomorrow morning."

The news made her tense.

"I want to take you home, Alex…"

"I know."

He hesitated. "It's what you want too, isn't it?"

She said nothing, even as thick tears ran down her face in silence.

"Alex…?" Dimitri moved to hold her close. "What is it?"

She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. "I love you," she whispered. "More than I'll ever love anyone."

_Outside, in the hallway_

_-_

"David?" Anna stared at him, too shocked to return his embrace. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought you could use a friend," he said, with a grin wide enough that it lit up his entire handsome face.

"David _how_ did you know we were here?" Anna inched her way out of his hug. "What about Leah? And Robin? Don't tell me you left them alone!"

"Dan," David cut in, deftly moving his arm around her. "He's staying with them. They're safe. I would never have left Paris if I didn't know they were safe! As for how I found you, there was a cab driver at the entrance of your hotel…he said he brought you here last night and again this morning."

"Dan? As in Dan O'Toole?"

"Yes, Dan O'Toole."

Anna stared at him in disbelief.

"Anna," David sighed with a mix of indignation and weariness. "I wanted to make sure you were okay. Can you at least pretend you're just a little happy to see me?"

"David!" Anna replied, exasperated. "This isn't about whether I want to see you or not! I trusted you to take care of my daughters, and now you're telling me you've left then alone in Paris, with Faison still out there!?"

"Baby, have you listed to a word I've said?" he asked, not bothering to mask the indignation in his voice now. He put his hands on her shoulders, nudging her out of the way of a stretcher being wheeled through the hallway. "Robin and Leah are safe. I wouldn't have left Paris if I didn't _know_ they were safe."

Anna let the words sink in.

"Dan's with them?"

"Yes," David nodded, patiently. "Staying with them. In your apartment. In addition to the guards outside."

Taking a deep breath, Anna let the tension ease out of her shoulders. Dan O'Toole might not exactly see eye to eye with her on everything, but she didn't doubt that he'd keep Leah and Robin safe.

With that knowledge, she finally allowed herself to soak in the sight of the man she loved and there was no hesitation this time when she wrapped her arms around him. "I'm sorry…" she whispered. "I know you'd never jeopardize their lives."

A smile creased his face when he returned her embrace. "It's okay, baby."

"I _am_ glad you're here," she admitted. She was. Not only because she missed him more than she realized, but because he was the one person in her life who had nothing to do with the madness that was Cesar Faison. Nothing to do with everything that had happened to her sister.

Having his arms around her felt like a refuge. She didn't realize how very much she needed him until just now.

"How's Alex?" he asked, his dark eyes darting to the hospital room she had come out of. "Can I see her?"

"No," Alex answered. "Not now. It's…it's not a good time right now. Dimitri's in there with her."

"Is she alright?" he asked softly.

"No…she's not." Anna felt as though her carefully maintained composure might crack at the mere question. As if a simple yes or no could possibly explain her sister's condition.

David noticed the change in her and wrapped a protective arm around her waist. "If we can't see your sister, why don't we step outside for a while? Get some fresh air, so I can tell you what your girls have been up to."

Anna nodded. Air and thoughts of something besides Faison. God knows how much she needed both of them. "I wouldn't mind going back to the hotel for a little while." She needed to get away from here. Away from the madness and the anger that threatened to suffocate her.

"Sounds good," he replied not liking how pale she suddenly looked. "I wouldn't mind a shower and a nap myself."

Anna held on to his hand and walked towards the elevator as briskly as her heels allowed.

Away from this building.

Away from confessions that broke her heart and desperate requests she wasn't sure she could carry out.

_Moscow, Russia_

_-_

"Of course you can give me his room number! I'm his wife!" Tiffany Hill threw an exasperated pair of hands into the air.

For the second time the reception agent mumbled something in haphazard English about her last name not matching Sean's.

"I'm a newscaster," she explained again, with less patience this time. "I kept my last name for professional reasons. Do you need me to show you a wedding photo? 'Cause I can, you know…" She dug her hands into her red purse, fishing for the large wallet inside.

The reception agent raised the palm of his hand to tell her not to bother. "Is not good. Name is different. Cannot give room number because name is different!"

"Oh, for crying out loud…" Tiffany blew a bang across her forehead as she exhaled. "Just book me into another room then, 'cause after two seven hour flights, I'm not going to sit in the lobby until he…"

"Until he what?" a familiar voice asked from across the lobby.

"Sean!" Tiffany turned around and squealed in delight. It had been far too long that she hadn't felt his arms around her.

She dropped the purse she was holding and ran to meet him, nearly throwing him off balance with the force of her hug.

He laughed, burying his face in her hair.

God, how she missed him. How she had missed the warmth and that easygoing charm that could make the most complicated problem seem solvable.

He grinned at her and as he did she was suddenly shocked by what she saw.

"Honey! What happened to your face?" A cut that looked like a giant check-mark swooped across his cheek.

"Oh that," Sean grinned. "You should've seen the other guy."

Tiffany frowned. "Not funny."

"Dare I ask what you're doing here?" he asked, catching his breath.

Tiffany thwacked him across the chest. "I missed you, you fool! You kept telling me you're getting closer, and then when I didn't hear from you for a couple of days…I got tired of worrying about you from home. So I…"

"So you just decided to hop on a plane to Moscow?" he finished for her.

"Yeah," she admitted. It did sound rather impulsive when he put it that way, but the sight and sound and feel of him were worth it all. Many times over.

He planted a kiss on her cheek, grinning. "I won't say I like the idea of you being caught up in all this madness, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss you just as much."

"You said you found Alex, right? Is she alright? And what about Anna? What about Faison? Have they caught him?"

"It's…complicated," Sean started, his expression serious again. He had walked over to the check-in counter to pick up her suitcase. "Why don't we head up to my room and I can fill you in on what's going on."

She smiled. "I thought you'd never ask."

Then Sean spotted David and Anna entering the lobby.

"Tiffany?" Anna exclaimed from the other end.

Tiffany turned around in surprise.

"Anna!" She enveloped her in a bear hug "It is _so_ good to see you!" She hadn't seen her friend in years. Hadn't seen Anna since her return to the land of the living. Hadn't yet seen her new daughter. Or her husband. Or was it ex-husband now?

The emotion of it all blurred her eyes with tears. "Oh dear," Tiffany wiped away the mascara that she knew was running down her face now, streaking her cheeks. "Look, what you've done," she laughed. "You're making me look like a mess."

Anna laughed. "As if. I've missed you, Tiff. Tell me why exactly we haven't gotten around to seeing each other?"

"You know this woman?" David asked from behind.

Tiffany's vision was clouded from her tears, yet she recognized the voice of the man. The one who sat next to her on the plane. "Do you know each other?" she asked Anna, taken aback to see him standing here.

"Darling, you know David Hayward?" Sean asked her, joining the conversation.

David moved to stand next to Anna. "Are you _his_…wife?" David asked Tiffany in disbelief.

"Oh god…" Tiffany lifted her hands to cover her mouth. "Don't tell me you're _Anna's_ David!"

"He's…Leah's father," Sean mumbled in explanation, before Anna got the chance to answer. "So how do _you _know each other?"

"We sat next to each other on the flight here!"

Sean raised his brows and Anna chuckled.

"Lucky you," Sean murmured to Tiffany.

"Yes, lucky me, indeed," she answered in David's defence. "You neglected to tell me just how charming Anna's husband is!"

"I could say the same," David smirked, turning to Donely. "I had no idea such a delightful creature could be married to you, Sean."

Sean's lips tightened into a forced smile. "At least I am. Married to her, that is."

Tiffany moved to stand next to Anna, whispering in her ear. "Is it just me or do I suddenly sense hostility?"

"Mmm…a little." Anna gave her another hug. "Maybe we should break up this meeting while they're still talking to each other."

"Yes," Tiffany agreed. "But there's so much I want to talk to you about…"

"I'm not leaving Moscow until we've had a chance to catch up," Anna agreed. "I've missed you."

Tiffany gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Good. I will see you later then." She turned to David. "And you too, I hope."

Then she deftly slipped her arm into Sean's. "Honey, the jet lag is starting to sink in. I'm exhausted. Take me to your room before I fall asleep in one of those hideous green couches here."

Sean laughed, giving Anna a wink of acknowledgement for what he knew they were doing. "We wouldn't want that."

_State Hospital #18, Moscow_

_-_

"Nice haircut."

Alex couldn't help a smirk when she saw Andrei's barely concealed expression of shock. "Liar."

He plopped down on the bed next to her, disappointed that she could read him so easily. "Okay, maybe not so nice."

"I needed to look different from my sister for a while," she explained, pulling him into a hug.

"You did look different before," he countered. "Your hair was darker. And longer."

"I had it cut to match her style just before…"

"Before Faison kidnaps you," he finished for her softly. He ran his fingers along the edges of her hair. Hair that didn't quite reach her shoulders anymore. Andrei examined the drastic change with curiosity. "It's okay," he concluded. "You still look okay."

She didn't say anything when he moved to lie down next to her, draping her arms over him wordlessly.

"Dimitri says we are going back to Vadsel tomorrow. That it's okay for you to go back."

When she didn't answer he used his elbow to prop himself up and face her. "Alex?"

"_You're_ going back to Epsom, aren't you?" she asked.

"No," he shot back. "Dimitri says I can come to Vadsel for a few days before I go back to England."

"Don't you miss Tempus?"

"Yes. I do. But..." he grinned. "I know you miss me. More than I miss Tempus. So I will come to Vadsel _for you_." He said it dramatically, with a martyr's sigh.

Although the back of his head rested against her and Andrei couldn't see her face, he could envision her amused smile. They had the same sense of humour, him and Alex. At least that's what Dimitri always said.

"Do you remember the first day you rode him?" Andrei heard her ask.

"Yes." Of course he did. If there was one day in his life he would remember forever, it might just be that one.

"I remember going to your room that night, and when I saw your empty bed I got worried."

"So you come to look for me, in the stables." Andrei remembered the night well. It was clear and cold. And there were a million stars in the sky.

"I was irritated," Alex went on. "I thought maybe you had run away again."

"It was too cold to run away that night."

"Right."

"You should know. You're smart."

"Uh huh," she smirked. "When I stepped out into that dark, chilly night I wanted to ask Dimitri again why he didn't bring home the baby instead."

Andrei laughed. "You still want the baby, don't you?"

She shook her head, her expression serious. "No. I fell in love with you that night."

Andrei's grin faded with the weight of her words. 'And me with you,' he wanted to add. But men didn't say things like that.

"I fell in love with your heart and your spirit." Alex paused. "I realized that night that Dimitri couldn't have made a better choice if he tried." She bent her head to kiss the top of his, "Sometimes, it overwhelms me…how lucky I am to call you my son."

The words created a lump in Andrei's throat and at the same time they sent a dark, melancholy chill down his spine.

It was an odd thing to feel, he thought. Things would be better soon. Dimitri would take Alex back to Vadsel and help her heal.

Then he would return to Epsom to his horse. And he'd start racing.

It might take some time but things _would_ be alright again.

Then why was he suddenly weighed down by a heavy sadness he couldn't shake?

Andrei leaned against Alex in the silence of the room, not sure he wanted the answer.

_Sean's Room_

_-_

"You took a chance by coming here," Sean told her, sipping on a mix of vodka and orange juice, the only two options in the mini-bar.

"Oh no, honey," Tiffany corrected him. "I took a chance when I walked down the aisle with you. Coming to Russia to hunt you down is just par for the course."

She had slipped out of her red suit and into a green, silk nightgown, showing off just enough skin that it made Sean eager to have her finish her nightly routine in front of the mirror to take off her make-up. Eager to have her join him in the queen-size bed.

Her hair was tied into a messy bun, and he could see her naked back, as she turned her face to the mirror, away from him.

It was the way he loved her most. Right after she came out of the shower and took off her make-up and wore only silk to cover her smooth, pale skin.

"I'm sorry, I haven't very considerate lately. I've been so wrapped up in this case."

"It's not a case," she answered, her head still facing the mirror. "It's Anna's sister. If you hadn't offered to help her first, I would have made you."

Sean laughed. "Have I told you lately how amazing you are?"

This time she turned around to grin at him. "You did. When you called three nights ago. But you can tell me again."

"You're amazing," he teased. "Beautiful. Captivating. Gorgeous."

"Go on."

"There aren't enough adjectives in the world."

She laughed. "I bet." She used a cotton ball to wipe something off her eyes. "Tell me, how is Anna's sister?"

Sean frowned, taking another sip of his cocktail. "Not so good. Physically she'll recover, but emotionally, it might take a while."

"It must be hell on Anna."

Sean frown deepened. "It's been rough."

"She might not have a check mark slashed across her face, but she doesn't look so good either," Tiffany pointed out, massaging generous dabs of moisturizer into her face before getting up to join him in the bed, nestling against him when she did. "You know, I'm really glad she had you to go through this with her."

Sean nodded. "Me too."

She smiled as she planted a kiss on his lips, her moisturizer coming off on his cheeks. "I love your loyalty to the people you care about," she said softly.

"Even if it keeps us apart?"

She chuckled. "Oh honey, the challenge of tracking you down keeps things exciting. Plus, I get to meet the most interesting people on my flights."

"Right." Sean frowned again. "David."

"He's…gorgeous and charming," Tiffany pointed out. "But I didn't think he'd be Anna's type."

"He's a bull-headed, arrogant, self-important…"

"Well then, by golly. He is her type after all."

Sean set down his drink, and fingered the strap on her silk night gown. It was a deep, rich green and made for a perfect complement to her porcelain skin. It was new he decided. Because if he'd seen her wear it before, he'd have remembered it. "Let's not talk about David. Or Anna."

Tiffany grinned, oblivious now to the drab hotel room they were in, knowing she wouldn't want to be anywhere else. "What would you like to talk about?"

He whispered the answer in her ear, making her giggle, and she kissed him to let him know his answer was exactly what she had in mind.

_Anna's Room_

_-_

"So that's where that damn t-shirt went!" David exclaimed when Anna stepped out of the shower and into the bedroom, where he sat on the bed, leaning against the backboard, after having loosened his shirt and tie. He didn't look tired, in spite of the long flight. Instead he was as handsome and coolly relaxed as he was the day she'd first asked for his help in countering Edmund's stifling overprotection, at Pine Valley Hospital. "I've been looking for that thing since I got to Paris!"

His oversized Phillies t-shirt nearly came down to her knees.

"Oh you know," Anna winked. "Sometimes I can't resist a little theft." She didn't tell him she took it not because it made for perfectly comfortable sleepwear but because its scent reminded her of him. Wearing it meant he was close to her, even when he wasn't. Especially at night, when she missed him most.

She snuggled against him, smiling when his hand ran over her thigh as soon as she did.

"You've lost weight," he observed, moving his index finger along the back of her thigh, slowly curving it upwards, until it disappeared underneath the t-shirt.

"Mmm…" Anna didn't want to talk. She wanted _him_.

It was the one thing that always grounded them. When they made love, the world outside stood still, and the only thing that mattered was the next kiss, the next moment, the next touch…and the love they infused into every sensation, as long as words were left out of the equation.

She sank backwards onto the bed, pulling him down with her, her lips on his, her arms already wrapped around his neck, before he realized what she was doing.

He returned her kiss. Hungrily at first, pulling away from her lips only to catch his breath.

"Slow down," he mouthed, holding on to her hands as she moved them to undo the rest of his shirt.

"Didn't think I'd ever hear that from you…" she replied, her movement unhindered by the distraction of his voice.

He squeezed her hands, stopping them from what they were doing. "Hey…I mean it, baby. _Slow down_."

Anna pushed herself off him. "I'm sorry…I didn't think…" Her eyes narrowed. Puzzled. Hurt. "Don't you…?"

His dark eyes smiled, letting her know it wasn't a matter of not wanting her. "Yeah…I do. Always. You know that."

"Then why…?"

He sank back into the pillow that was propped up against the headboard, pulling her towards him so that her head rested on his chest. "Something's eating at you, I thought maybe you'd like to tell me about it, instead of burying it with sex."

"Whoa…" Anna looked at him in disbelief. "Talk about killing the mood."

"We always use sex to avoid talking to each other. We need to stop doing that."

Anna sighed and felt a lopsided smile lift her lips. "Starting _tonight_?"

He laughed and kissed her forehead. "Sure. Why not?"

"You've changed, David."

"I know," he admitted. "You left me. Then Leo died. And then I became a father. All that changes a man."

Anna relaxed in his arms, the urgency of her need for him fading. David was here. He'd stay here. Tonight there was no need to rush. "I love you," she told him. "But I loved you then too. From the start."

"I know," his fingers played with her hair. "Lack of love was never the problem. Lack of honesty was."

"Mmm…" She closed her eyes. He'd get no argument there.

"You look exhausted."

"I am tired," she admitted. "I can't remember the last time I slept without worrying about what the next day would bring."

"How are the headaches?" he asked, glancing at the half empty prescription container that he'd given her, sitting on her night table stand.

Anna shrugged her shoulders. Honesty _was_ easier sometimes. "Depends on the day. Right now, I feel fine."

"I still want you to see a neurologist when we get back to Paris.

'My _sister _is a neurologist,' she wanted to say. "I will," was what she said instead. Not because she wanted to avoid another argument, but because she knew she had to be healthy in order to do what she still needed to do.

"You want to tell me about, Alex?" he asked softly.

She did. And at the same time she didn't.

It hurt just to think about Alex.

"I don't know where to start," she mumbled. "Or even if I have any right to share any of it with you."

"What happened to her is killing you. I can see that," David told her. "You can't carry that burden by yourself."

"Faison_ is _my burden," Anna shot back, feeling her earlier anger resurge. "He always has been. He's _my_ mistake, David. No one else should have had to suffer for it. Not you, not Robert, not Sean, not my children… least of all my sister."

She felt his hand massage her shoulder, in response to her rising tension. "When we married, we decided to share our burdens. That's the way it works, baby."

"Look, we're not…"

David's grip tightened on her shoulders. "Yeah…yeah, I know. We're _not_ married." He frowned, and she could hear the resentment in his voice. "I also know that it's a running joke with your buddy, Sean. But I don't need a damn piece of paper or a gold ring to tell me what I feel about you. To tell me where my loyalties lie. You're my wife, Anna. Here…" He put a hand on his heart. "That's where you're going to _stay_ my wife, to hell with legalities."

Anna managed a smile. "You know, I think I might be okay with that. We were never big on convention anyway."

He returned her smile. "I'm telling you this because I want you to know that what you tell me stays in this room."

"Doctor-patient confidentiality?"

"Husband-wife confidentiality."

Anna sighed, sinking back against his chest. "She's a mess, David. It's awful."

"What happened?" he prodded. Gently.

She told him. About the branding and the other injuries. About Alex's attempt to escape and about her sister's terrible realization that she might have only herself to rely on to get away from Faison.

When David looked at her in shock, Anna felt the tears well up again, hot and wet and full of anger.

Her words became rushed, pouring out between sobs and she barely heard David whisper in her ear, as he rubbed her back.

"This isn't your fault, baby."

"There's something else…while Faison still believed that Alex was me, she made an effort to gain his trust." Anna didn't bother to wipe away her tears anymore. "She…" The words choked in her throat. "She slept with him, David. At least that's what she told me…I don't know if it's true that he didn't force himself on her. I don't know whether that's my sister's way of regaining control of something she really had no control over…"

Anna was shaking now and she felt David pulling her closer.

"On top of everything else…on top of the physical and the psychological nightmare she's going through, Alex feels this _guilt_ for sleeping with another man!"

"Dimitri will understand…" David started.

"Alex doesn't necessarily think so," Anna cut him off, feeling a salty tear on her tongue as she licked her lips. "She's not even sure she wants his forgiveness. Not if it comes at the cost...of having him do something only because he feels he should."

"God, what a mess…" David mumbled. His handsome face was pale and visibly shaken, and for a moment Anna wondered if he regretted asking her for the truth.

"This morning, Alex asked me to help her."

"_Help_ her?"

"She wants my help to get away from Dimitri and Andrei."

"I don't understand…"

"Alex says she needs time on her own to figure things out. I have the means to make sure she could go somewhere where he wouldn't be able to find her. Alex knows that and that's why she asked for my help."

"But…?"

Anna turned to face him. "David, she was a mess when I saw her this morning! My sister stood in front of a mirror and started chopping off her hair because she couldn't stand to look like me anymore!"

David winced. "I see."

"I don't think she's in the right state of mind right now to make _any_ major decision, let alone take off, still injured, to parts of the world where she'll be apart from the only people that love her! _It's madness_!"

"Then tell her that," David suggested. "This is still Alex we're talking about, she'll listen to logic, if nothing else."

"Don't you think I tried?" Anna told him. "I tried to make her understand that maybe she wasn't thinking straight right now. That she shouldn't be making decisions like that in her state."

"And…?"

"Then my brilliant sister looks at me, as though I've just put a knife in her heart…and she _begs_ me, saying it's the only time she's asked me for anything, could I please just _help her_…just this once?"

Tears she didn't think she still had, kept rolling down her face.

"Hey…"

"She's right, David," Anna said softly. "I've lost track of all she's done for me. Alex risked her marriage when she came to help me and Bart in Ontario. Then she put me up at Wildwind, jeopardizing the safety of her entire new family. When Robin was sick, she dropped everything and came to Paris…and then when Faison injected Leah with that virus, without a moment's hesitation, she went to…she went to that bloody bridge and pretended to be me! By doing that she saved our daughter's life!"

David said nothing, looking at her sadly.

"And now…the one time Alex asks me for help, I'm supposed to say, 'Sorry, sis, no can do. You're just a little too unstable right now, and you really don't know what's best, so for your own sake, I'm going to have to say no.'"

Anna met his eyes, wishing desperately they'd give her an answer. "What am I supposed to do, David? I can't say no to her…_I can't!_ Yet, by helping her run away, am I going to help her sink even deeper into her nightmare? What if she's alone and terrified and does something to herself, and what if she'll be somewhere where no one will care enough to stop her? _What then?_ By helping her, am I going to _hurt _her?"

"Oh, Anna…" David held her when she buried her face in his chest, in order to hide the tears she was tired of crying. "There's no right and wrong choice, baby. You can only do what your heart tells you."

It was all he said and together they sat in silence.

Anna wasn't sure of the exact moment when her exhaustion led to sleep, she knew only that his arms were around her when it happened.

And that she loved him for it.


	56. Chapter 56

**Chapter 56**

_State Hospital #18, Moscow, Russia_

_The next day_

_-_

Anna Devane ran her hands over her skirt in an effort to straighten its wrinkles. It was a nervous habit she rarely indulged in anymore, except in moments like this, when it re-emerged subconsciously as she walked down the hospital hallway, bracing herself for what she knew awaited her.

She spotted Dimitri Marick's silhouette at the end of the hallway, waving his arms in the air, talking loudly to a small group of hospital staff that encircled him. One young doctor tried in vain to calm him down. The distress in Dimitri's voice was audible from a distance.

Anna barely had time to take a deep breath before he spotted her.

David had wanted to come to the hospital with her. He nearly insisted on it, but Anna wouldn't allow it.

This had been her decision. Her responsibility.

She alone would face its aftermath. No matter how unpleasant.

Upon seeing her, Dimitri stopped gesticulating and turned around to walk towards her, his handsome, aristocratic features livid.

"_Where the hell is she?" _he demanded.

Denial was pointless.

"Alex needed some time alone," Anna told him, steeling herself. "She'll come back to us when she's ready."

Dimitri stared at her in disbelief. "When she's '_ready'_? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means exactly what you think it means."

"Where did you take her, Anna?" It wasn't a question.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, noticing that the same doctors and nurses he'd been yelling at earlier were staring at them now, observing their awkward exchange in the middle of the hospital hallway.

"You're _sorry_?" Dimitri shook his head angrily. "Don't be sorry, Anna. Just tell me where she is, so I can be with her."

"I can't do that."

Dimitri's jaw trembled with rage. "Can't or won't?"

"Both."

"Alex is hurt. She's afraid and she's not herself. You really think she's best off alone somewhere?"

"I think… it's her right to make that decision."

Dimitri moved closer to her, inadvertently pushing her into the wall behind her. "Did she tell you what she went through when she was with Faison?"

Anna said nothing, making no effort to distance herself from him. Nor to avoid his accusing glare.

"She didn't, did she?" Dimitri hissed. "Neither of us have any idea what she's been through the last few weeks. We know only that it's changed her, and it's hurt her, and that she's in no state to look after herself right now!"

"Alex knows what she needs."

"No, she _doesn't_!" Dimitri yelled, banging his hand into the wall, barely missing her shoulder in the process. "Right now she has no clue what's best for her! She's confused and hurt and god knows what else. The last time we saw her, she cut off her hair with a bloody Swiss Army knife! What the hell does _that_ tell you, Anna?"

Anna flinched and bit her lip. She wouldn't cry. Nor would she lose control.

Not this time.

This time she would stand her ground, regardless of the toll it took. She owed Alex at least that much.

"You have no idea what's going on in her mind," Dimitri accused her, unfazed by her silence. "You spend a few minutes with her, here and there, and you think you know Alex. But you don't. You have no idea what's she gone through to get to where she was before this whole sordid kidnapping…"

"She'll come back, when she's ready, Dimitri," Anna said softly.

"And if she doesn't?"

"She will. She loves you. You and Andrei both."

"_What if she doesn't come back, Anna?" _

Dimitri moved still closer to her. Close enough for Anna to see his pupils widening in anger and to feel his breath on her face.

"You need to take a step back," she said calmly, meeting his glare.

Dimitri exhaled, raising his arms in surrender. No matter how great his anger, he wasn't a bully. "You're right…I'm sorry."

His shoulders slumped and Anna watched him make a visible effort to contain his fury. "Tell me where she is, Anna," he repeated, softly and with a civility that surprised her. "Please, tell me where she is so I can be with my wife. Alex needs me now. She might not admit it. Or even realize it. But she does. As much as I need her."

"I'm sorry, Dimitri, but I gave her my word."

"Your word…right," he took a deep breath, glaring at her with a finality that sent a chill down her spine. "I won't ask you again, Anna. In fact, I'd just as soon not speak to you ever again," he conceded. "But if…" he said icily as he turned away from her. "If anything happens to her, _anything_…I hold you responsible."

Anna watched Dimitri Marick storm down the corridor, without turning back. She caught several nurses spying on their drama, turning away, embarrassed, when she caught them staring.

When all of them were gone, she was left standing alone.

And only then did she lean against the wall behind her, wishing it would swallow her whole.

_Vadsel, Hungary_

_Two weeks later_

_-_

Andrei Marick threw the thin, oval stone into the pond, watching it skim the surface four times before sinking into its murky waters below.

He frowned, about to pick up another one, when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps rustling through the fallen leaves behind him.

Dimitri.

"The driver is looking for you," his father told him from behind his back. "He's ready to take you to Budapest. Your flight to London leaves in just over three hours."

Andrei didn't answer and they both stood next to each other, staring across the still pond, towards the trees that lined it. Some of the leaves were already turning golden shades of orange and yellow in a fiery, final flash of colour before succumbing to winter's upper hand.

Dimitri pulled a cigarette from a half empty container and offered him one. Since returning to Hungary, his father had stopped lecturing him on his habit.

Andrei figured the least he could do was return him the favour. He pulled a lighter from his pocket and lit his father's cigarette before his own.

"Two weeks are already over. Do you think she is going to come back to us?" he asked

Dimitri exhaled the smoke into the clear, warm air, his weary features softening. "I don't know."

Andrei knew his father had hired a team of detectives to look for her, but if Alex didn't want to be found, it was an exercise in futility. Alex was smart. If she wanted to disappear, she'd find a way.

"I hope so," Dimitri added. "Because I can't imagine life without her."

The heaviness Andrei felt since he last spoke to her still sat in his heart and he wondered how long it would stay there. "I hope she is okay." He shuddered at the thought her being anything but. The thought of losing his mother after he'd only just found her was pretty damn unfair.

"Me too," Dimitri mumbled. He raised his chin and glanced at his Longines watch. "You really should get going."

Andrei nodded. He didn't want to leave his father alone at Vadsel without knowing whether Alex would return or not, but he knew he couldn't spend any more away from Tempus Fugit without handing over the horse to the care of another trainer. Doing that would be worse than letting down his horse. It would be an insult to Alex. An insult to the magnificent gift she'd given him.

Wordlessly, they started walking across the field, to the black sedan that was waiting in the estate's driveway. Once there, Andrei noticed that someone had already placed the suitcase he'd packed and left in his room, into the trunk.

"Promise me you will call me when you know anything?"

Dimitri put out his cigarette on the driveway, pulling out a pair of sunglasses to shield his eyes from the afternoon sun. "I will. I promise."

Andrei was about to step into the car, but Dimitri stopped him, holding out his arms.

"Hey…no good-bye?"

Andrei grinned and gave his father a hug. "No. No good-bye for you. It's not good-bye. _Viszont latasra_." It meant see you again. Not good-bye. That much Hungarian he'd picked up by now.

Dimitri's aristocratic features broadened into a smile, before he closed the passenger door for Andrei. "I will see you up there in a week. Call me when you arrive."

"I will and Dad…"

"What?" Dimitri asked amidst the noise of the engine starting.

"Find her," Andrei mouthed through the closed window.

Dimitri didn't get a chance to answer. A cloud of dust engulfed him next to accelerating car.

_Paris, France_

_WSB Paris Headquarters_

_-_

Sean Donely waited impatiently inside his temporary office for Anna to enter.

When his door swung open and she did, her presence brought him anything but the relief he sought.

"I have bad news," he told her, not bothering with small talk.

Anna looked flushed, as though she had rushed to get here. She took a seat in the chair across from his desk, unbuttoning the black blazer she wore over her black, silk blouse. "Not you too."

"What do you mean?"

"You first."

"No, really," he said, doubly worried now. "Tell me."

"Please…" Anna frowned, irritated. "Tell me why you asked me to come here."

"It's Saunders," he blurted out.

"Don't tell me you still haven't tracked him down?"

Sean frowned. "Every time I try, I get the run around from Regional Director Clive Sampson. 'Saunders is unreachable. Saunders is undercover'. Saunders might as well not exist."

Anna leaned forward, anger turning her cheeks a deeper red. "What about Sandrine?"

"According to Sampson, 'transferred out of Kinshasa'," Sean said sarcastically.

"_What? Relocated? _Where to?_"_

"Look," Sean sighed. "It's obvious that neither Saunders nor Sandrine want to be found and they got Sampson to play along. If the RD is keeping his agents out of our reach, there's nothing I can do. My hands are tied."

"Then go above Sampson!" Anna pressed.

Sean shot her a look of disbelief. "Do I have to remind you how unorthodox, never mind, _unauthorized_, our operation was? Do you really think it's wise to rock the boat by alerting someone even higher up than Sampson? All of our jobs are on the line here, Anna. Yours, mine, Dan's, Sandrine's…every single person who helped us that night on the bridge. It doesn't matter whether we work for the WSB, or Interpol or Scotland Yard…we _all_ violated official policy."

"We _need_ to talk to Saunders!" Anna shot back, exasperated.

"Do we?" Sean asked her. "Alex got away from Faison. She's safe. That's all we set out to do. Do we _really_ need to know the how and the why? Or do we need to get a hold of Saunders so you can keep a promise you made to your sister?"

"No," Anna blushed a deeper red. "We need to talk to this guy because no one else has gotten as close to Faison as he has."

"I'm not willing to risk half a dozen careers in exchange for _that _conversation," Sean said firmly. "Nor am I willing to burn my bridges with some of my best contacts. Contacts that trust me."

Anna stood up and started pacing the office. "So what then? We just…_let it go_?"

Sean nodded, "Yes. We let it go."

"I can't accept that…"

"If the consequences of pushing harder affected only me and you, then I'd agree with you. But they don't. Whatever bizarre reasons Sandrine and Saunders have for hiding from us, they don't matter anymore. It's over."

Anna sat back down, pressing a hand against her forehead. "Faison is still out there. He hasn't paid for a single thing he did. It's not over, Sean."

"Tracking Faison is our next step. We can do that on our own. We don't need Roger Saunders to do that."

"Right," Anna sighed. It was like saying you didn't need a knife to cut a steak. Granted there were other options, but a knife certainly made it a lot easier.

They didn't _need_ Saunders, but god knows they could have used him.

And she did promise Alex.

'I'm sure that's one promise you could forgive me for not keeping, right, big sis?' Anna asked the imaginary image of her sister in her mind. Her head pounded fiercely and for a second Sean's outline blurred in her line of vision.

His hand reached out to hers, across the desk. .

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he said softly. "I know it's not what you wanted to hear. It's why I wanted to tell you in person."

"It's not your fault, Sean," she sighed. "You did what you could."

"I'm not giving up on Faison."

"I know."

Silence hung in the air, both their thoughts suspended.

"Are you going to tell me your news?" Sean prodded, when he saw her sink back into his chair.

"It's Alex," she said softly.

"Is she alright?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean…?"

"Exactly that," Anna told, her face creasing into a frown. "You know she asked me not to contact her, right?"

Sean nodded.

"So, I didn't," Anna told him. "I respected that she needed space and time, but I was worried enough about her that I arranged for an agent from Scotland Yard to keep a close eye on her in Glasgow."

"And?"

"He lost her."

"What do you mean he lost her?"

"He thought she was asleep but this morning he found out that Alex checked out of the guest house she was staying at in the middle of the night."

"What?"

"So, we ran a trace on her credit card, and it turns out she took an early morning flight to London and after that…nothing."

"Doesn't she still own a flat in London? Maybe she went..."

"Checked that already. She's not there."

"Maybe she's ready to head back to Dimitri," Sean suggested, not willing to humour her panic just yet. "Have you tried calling him?"

"So that he knows I've lost her?" Anna quipped. "Trust me, if she did go back to him, Dimitri would be the last person to tell me. But she's not with him, I know that, Sean. If she was, Alex wouldn't do it like this. Not without telling me."

"She isn't exactly thinking straight these days," he countered.

"There's another problem."

"What?" Sean asked.

"Charlotte Devane."

"What about her? She's tucked away in some maximum security prison in the United Kingdom, isn't she?"

"Not anymore."

"What?" Sean looked at her in disbelief.

"She was granted a full pardon, endorsed by a member of the House of Lords no less, and released less than a month ago. While Alex was still with Faison."

Sean absentmindedly rubbed what was left of the scar on his cheek, his face deep in thought. "That's bad news, Anna."

"Alex _put_ her in jail, Sean. Charlotte _will _want revenge."

"And now you have no way of warning Alex…" Sean finished for her, glumly.

"There's more," Anna said. "I tried to run a second trace on Alex's credit cards this afternoon, only to find out she _cancelled_ them all. Two Mastercards and one American Express."

"That's odd."

"Exactly. Why would she do that? If she really wants to disappear, she's just made it that much harder on herself. Have you tried purchasing an airline ticket or a getting a hotel room without a credit card these days?"

"Do you think she did it because she knows you can track her that way?" he asked grimly. "Maybe she decided that it isn't fair that you know where she is when no one else does."

Anna's face turned whiter still. "Or maybe she did it because she knows she won't need them any…"

"Hey..." Sean stopped her. "Don't go there."

"I'm scared for her, Sean," Anna whispered. "I'm really scared. I now know exactly how Dimitri feels. Like the rug's been pulled out from under my feet."

"You're underestimating your sister, Anna. She's gone through a lot in her life. She's a survivor."

"This is different, Sean…we have no idea what she went through with that monster. What's going on in her…?"

"Hey!" he stopped her again, firmer this time. "I've always trusted your instincts, sweetheart. This time I want you to trust mine. I have a feeling Alex will be okay. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but when she's ready, she'll come back to us."

Anna sank back in his chair, closing her eyes while her fears battled against the conviction in Sean's voice.

Sean got up out of his chair and leaned against the rim of his desk, as he stood next to her. "Maybe it's time you let this go."

Anna didn't understand. "Let my sister go?"

"Yes," he said gently. "Let her go. By taking off like this, she's made it pretty clear that she wants to deal with whatever she's dealing with on her own, don't you think?"

"Alex is hurt…she's not herself!"

"_You're_ not yourself, Anna!"

"You're saying I should give up on my sister?"

"Have you had a look in the mirror lately? We've been going non-stop for weeks, even now, after coming back to Paris. If it's not Saunders, it's Faison, and now Alex…_I_ need a break, and god knows _you_ need a break."

She got up and shook her head angrily. "I'm not going to sit back and let Faison get away with this, and I'm not going to throw my hands in the air where Alex is concerned. Not after everything she's done for me! If you think that, maybe you don't know me after all…"

"I'll tell you what I know, sweetheart," he too got up to put her hands on her shoulders, his expression stern. "I know that if you don't stop pushing yourself you're going to have a breakdown and I know that I won't let that happen."

Anna wanted to brush off his arms, to tell him where exactly he could take his fatherly advice. To tell him that she was no longer the ingénue he trained over two decades ago. Who'd take his orders blindly. And thank him for it.

Instead, she felt the pounding in head intensify, making her dizzy enough to see she needed to sit back down.

"You know, I'm right, Anna," he said, the harshness gone from his voice, replaced with concern. He knelt beside her. "Don't fight me on this. Take care of your health first…you have two beautiful daughters that mean more than any revenge possibly could."

"I'm not letting this go…"

"A break, Anna," Sean corrected her. "A few weeks away from this. Promise me that and in return I promise to help you find that bastard and put him away for good. But if you can't step back long enough to do that…I'm out. I won't watch you self-destruct."

Anna felt a blanket of defeat wash over her. Yet rather than stifling her, it felt comforting. Sean was right. She might deny it a hundred times over, but she knew she had to slow down. If not, her body would force her on its own. The headache she hadn't been able to shake for days was a subtle reminder of that fact.

'I'm sorry, Alex,' she thought sadly. 'Sean's right.'

"Deal?" he asked, the hint of triumph already his eyes, telling her he knew what she was going to say before she said it.

It gave her some pleasure to know she could read him as well as he could read her.

Anna gave him the satisfaction of a smile. In spite of the fact that his bullheadedness could match hers, he was still the best friend she could ever ask for. "Okay, partner." She held out her hand, "Deal."

_Vadsel, Hungary_

_-_

Dimitri Marick jumped off the horse. His breath came in short, exhausted gasps after the wild ride through the countryside.

"Sorry, Maritsa. That was too much, wasn't it?" he mumbled to the tired animal in Hungarian. "For both of us."

He sank down onto the warm, green grass, watching as the horse moved to a shady spot underneath an enormous elm tree.

He exhaled heavily as he lay down on his back, squinting at the sun in the sky, shining down on him.

He thought by tiring himself physically he'd find some sort of reprieve from the thoughts that tormented him. 'As if,' he mouthed, realizing instead just how out of shape he was.

_Where are you, darling?_

_Are you thinking of me, the way I can't stop thinking of you? _

_Are you okay? _

_You took care of me when I was dying, why won't you let me take care of you?_

_What really happened at Alexei Estate? _

"When are you going to stop asking yourself the same damn questions?" he mumbled aloud, wiping sweat from his brow. He sat up and took a drink from the flask of water he'd taken along for the ride and stared at the endless hills that surrounded him. At least that was the one question he could answer. 'I'll stop when I find you.'

Staring at the land around him brought him back to the day that Andrei first came here, to Vadsel. Much to Alex's shock and dismay.

'You didn't know what to do with him, so you took off with Tempus, and I followed you, with Maritsa,' Dimitri recalled. By the time he had finally caught up to her, they would have been close to where he sat now.

He had been as exhausted then as he was today, sinking onto the grass like a sack of potatoes.

He remembered Alex's indignation well. Her fury.

'You rode like a maniac,' he thought with a grin. 'I was afraid you were going to kill yourself before you got the chance to yell at me.'

He drifted back in time, to the conversation that preceded her mad dash into the Hungarian countryside.

"_So help me understand this…you adopted him to prove a point? Heaven forbid someone should challenge Dimitri Marick? Is that it?" _

"_No…no, of course not."_

"_So in all your sudden desire to adopt this boy, it didn't occur to you to maybe pick up your cell phone and give your wife a call? 'Hi honey, do you mind if we adopt a what, a twelve year old, instead of the baby we both agreed on?' "_

"_He's fifteen. He's just small." _

"_A teenager. Oh…that's…that's great." _

"_I should have discussed this with you…" _

"_Do you know what I did while you were in Romania? I went to shop for baby clothes and baby furniture. I decorated Andrei's room…there's a crib there, and a changing table. A dozen stuffed animals...and the wallpaper…I put up this adorable wallpaper. Mickey Mouse in this little red costume. The Sorcerer's Apprentice…or something like that." _

"_Alex, I…"_

"_And then you come home three days later…with a teenager? Just like that?" _

"_It's crazy. I know." _

"_Crazy? Crazy doesn't begin to describe it. If I didn't know you, I'd say you've completely lost your mind!"_

"_Darling….please, sit down. We need to talk about this."_

"_Oh, I see. Now we need to talk about it!" _

"_Alex…" _

"_Sorry…now I'm not in the mood to talk about it."_

And then she had stormed off, much to Andrei's amusement.

The memory brought an unexpected smile to his face. God, she was beautiful, when she was angry.

When she had finally calmed down enough to give him a chance to speak, they'd both been lying on the grass, worn out from the ride.

"_I'm sorry." _

"_You have a huge heart, Dimitri. And you're maddeningly impulsive. I love you for that, but this, this is…" _

"_I wish I could tell you I knew how to raise a teenager but I can't. All I know is that there's no one else I'd rather raise a child with than you. I have an adult son, Anton, whom I barely know. I call him on holidays, to wish him a happy birthday and a Merry Christmas and each time I do, I feel that he's speaking to me only because he feels he should. And I can practically hear the relief in his voice when I hang up the phone. I can't call myself a father, Alex. Maybe it's why I wanted us to raise a young child, an infant. To start from the beginning…and make it right."_

"_But then you saw Andrei…" _

"_Then I saw Andrei. The way he looked at me, as though he could read my thoughts, daring me to prove him wrong. That he isn't a lost case. That someone can still love him. Maybe in wanting to adopt a baby, I was being selfish…maybe some higher power out there thinks I need a bigger challenge."_

"_W__hat about me? Frankly, I think you're all the challenge I can handle." _

"_If you need some time to let this sink in. Maybe get away for a while, spend some time in Paris with Anna, or London with your old friends…it's alright, I understand."_

"_That would make a good impression on Andrei, wouldn't it? If I ran off for a few weeks after he arrives." _

"_Will you give it a try?" _

"_That's all we can do isn't it? He deserves at least that much." _Her hand hadreached up, from where she was lying on the grass, to touch his lips_. "Crazy man."_

She had done much than try. She'd taken the difficult teenager he couldn't resist and loved him as much as if he were her own.

And that made Dimitri love her even more.

It made him think of her, when he saw the horseshoe shaped pendant in a jewellery store in London. Inscribed with words, that couldn't have been more fitting. _Tempus Fugit, Amor Manet_.

He would never forget the night in Paris, when he gave it to her.

All he had to do to recall their dinner was close his eyes, and he could hear the sound of Edith Piaf's throaty voice in the background, the smell of olives and garlic and, of course, her face, unforgettable behind the candlelight on their table.

"_When I brought home Andrei. It was…it was crazy. I came home with a teenager when we had decided on a baby. But you, you accepted him. You loved him…"_

"_I do love him. You don't ever have to thank me for that. He's an incredible young man and every day I'm grateful that he came into our lives."_

"_I am too, but I wish it had happened differently."_

"_I don't believe in fate, you know that. But when I first saw him ride Tempus and saw how much he loved those horses, then I really started to believe that he was meant to be with us." Her eyes smiled, "Destiny, as you would say."_

_Dimitri had twirled the pendant on its chain. "Maybe…destiny. Yes, destiny."_

"_But I want to say, I didn't buy this to thank you for loving Andrei. I…" he paused, as though at a loss for words. "There are a lot of reasons I love you, Alex. I love that no matter what social gatherings we go to, you'll always be the smartest one there…" _

_Alex had cringed. "Stop it." _

"_T__o top it off you're easy on the eyes."_

"_Thanks…I think." _

"_But when I come home and you sit there and go over algebra for the tenth time with Andrei, seemingly forgetting your impatience, because you simply won't give up on him. Then, in that moment, I fall in love with you all over again. I fall in love with your heart…"_

"_I'm not a humble man, Alex. But sometimes, your love, it humbles me. To think that someone like you, chose to marry me." _

_He remembered her wiping away an errant tear, "God, you're making me cry." _

"_That was the last thing I wanted to do…but I wanted you to know, no matter what happens, how many arguments we have in the future, that my love will always remain."_

"_Amor Manet."_

"_Yes, amor manet. But what I really want to say is that I want us to grow old together." _

"_We will." She raised a glass in the candlelight then. "To love, and future grey hairs."_

The image of her face was so vivid he didn't want to open his eyes and shatter it.

But he did. And, eyes open, he stared straight into the sunlight.

"I know you meant it, darling," he said aloud, not bothering to shield his eyes from the sun. "You want it as much as I do. For us to grow old together. You, me and Andrei."

Dimitri Marick stood up and brushed the grass from his riding pants, "I'll find you," he decided. "When I was dying, you didn't give up on me. I won't give up on you either. I _will_ find you, Alex. When I do we'll find a way to make things right again, no matter how long it takes. I promise you that."

He walked towards his horse, grabbing its reins as he led her to the nearest pond, letting the animal drink before he mounted her again and rode back to Vadsel.


	57. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

"_Let this be my last word, that I trust in your love." _

_-Tagore_

_Paris, France_

_One week later_

_-_

He waited outside.

Having come this far, his nerves now failed short of knocking on the door.

'It doesn't matter,' Robert Scorpio thought. 'Anna's always been restless and it's a beautiful day.' She was bound to come outside at some point.

He wasn't sure how long he'd wait outside Anna's Parisian low-rise apartment, before he might have to give knocking a try after all. Before some attentive traffic cop would charge him for loitering.

For the time being, waiting outside was his preferred option.

He sat down on a bench, across the street; wearing the brand new, blue suit Sandrine had bought him for the occasion.

"_It's been how long?" she had asked him incredulously before he left Kinshasa. "Over ten years since you've seen your daughter, Robert! A reunion like that needs a new suit."_

"_Sandi, I have enough suits hanging in my closet…I'm sure what I wear won't be the first thing on Robin's mind." _

"_But it will be the first thing Robin _sees_," Sandrine had reminded him. "And," she added, with the unabashed honesty he still wasn't entirely used to. "I want you to wear it for selfish reasons too. When Anna first sees you, she will see you wearing something that comes from me. Something that was handpicked by me." _

_Robert had laughed, while Sandrine's expression stayed serious. "I see. You're staking your claim."_

"_I am a woman," she had replied defensively. "I love you." _

_Robert had kissed her in reply. "I love you too, Sandi."_

_She had pushed him away. "Tell Anna I am sorry that I lied to her. Please make sure you tell her. I never wanted to lie to her." _

"_You could come with me and tell her yourself…" _

"_No. This is your reunion. You have to do this alone, Robert." Tears were falling down her face then. "Only…remember that I love you when you make your choice."_

"_This isn't about making a choice, Sandi…" _

"_Yes!" she had interrupted him indignantly. "Yes it is. Don't lie to yourself and don't lie to me. You have to make a choice and Anna has to make a choice."_

"_Sandi…" _

"_I hope…" she had said softly. "I hope you choose me. I know that you love me, Robert, but I think you still love Anna too. You cannot have both of us, so you have to make a choice."_

Now Robert sat on the bench immobile. Was she right? Was it really about making a choice? Or was it sheer arrogance to think that Anna would still want him in his life?

Sitting still, without the slightest movement, he did nothing but stare at the building across the street. It felt like a stakeout in the African jungle, except this time the jungle was urban. Concrete and glass. And the target wasn't a diamond smuggler, but a woman he had loved for as long as he could remember.

Anna would come out.

Sooner or later, he'd catch her leaving the building.

He would see Anna first, Robert had decided. He would see her and then Robin. Maybe Anna could help him find a way to make his first foray back into his daughter's life somehow less jarring. If that was possible.

An occasional yellow-coloured leaf from the trees that lined the avenue, fell down next to him. Autumn's first victims.

A huge leaf floated down in front of his face, landing on his lap, and in that brief moment of distraction, he saw her enter the building out of the corner of his eye.

To his astonishment it wasn't Anna he saw.

It was Robin.

"Luv…?" Robert stood up, mesmerized.

His daughter was across the street from him. For the first time in over ten years she was close enough that he could call out to her.

Memories washed over him with a force that took his breath away. They took him back over twenty years, to the day he first saw her, standing next to the fireplace in his apartment; the most charming little girl in the world.

Then they rushed fast forward to first time he saw her together with Anna. When the truth of whose child she really was had hit him in face as soon as Robin rushed into Anna's arms.

Today, it was no longer a little girl that he saw. It was a woman. She was petite and slender and she carried herself with the same light step as her mother. Her shoulder-length hair was fastened back into a loose ponytail and she carried a bulky corduroy purse, flung diagonally across her back.

Robert wanted to run across the street and take her in his arms. He wanted to hold her and never let go again.

Instead, his legs were paralysed. Heavy as lead and completely immovable.

"Robin…" he mouthed, his tongue dry as sandpaper. He knew she couldn't hear him from where he stood and before he had a chance to repeat her name, he watched his daughter disappear into the apartment's foyer.

Moving a hand to his chest, Robert caught his breath and sat back down, as calmly as his shaking knees allowed.

An old lady walking a poodle stared at him, stopping just short of asking him whether he needed help. The dog sniffed at his legs while the old lady looked at him with concern.

"I'm alright…" he said in English before she had the chance to ask.

It was a lie. He was so far from alright, it almost made him laugh hysterically.

'I can't do this…' he realized, panic rising in his throat. 'I can't just walk back into my daughter's life, as if the last ten years didn't exist.'

The mere thought of slipping back into the past made him think of Holly. He had once loved her as much as it was possible to love anyone. Had mourned her when she was presumed dead.

And then, when he finally had his family back, Anna was suddenly taken from him, and Holly had come back into his life.

She came back into his life and turned it upside down.

He had still loved her then. Yet he also loved Anna. She'd become his new family, his new life. Anna and Robin. The two people who were his everything.

_How could he possibly have chosen between them?_

Robert loosened his tie, suddenly suffocated by it. "God…I can't do this."

And then, staring straight ahead, he saw them leave the building.

Not just Robin. _All_ of them. Robin, Anna, David and the little girl.

'Of course…' his racing thoughts concluded. 'Robin went to meet her mother. Now they're going out together. For dinner maybe.'

There was a dark-haired man confidently pushing a baby stroller. 'David Hayward,' Robert realized. As he walked down the sidewalk, David said something to Robin that made her laugh.

It wasn't fair. _He_ wanted to walk there, in David's place. He should have been there. It was _his_ place, _his _family, and he wanted it so badly it was a physical ache.

He wanted to run across the street, rip David Hayward from them and claim his rightful place.

'Most of all, I want to hear you laugh again, luv,' he realized. 'You have no idea how much I miss hearing you laugh and seeing you smile. You and your mother both.'

Robert's attention turned away from David to Anna. She was carrying a little girl in her arms. A baby girl with hair as dark as her father's.

Robert saw the baby make a fist and grab a strand of her mother's long hair. Instead of irritating her, the gesture amused Anna and Robert watched as she kissed the baby on the nose, cleverly distracting the little girl while she undid her fist with her free hand.

The sight made him smile.

Lasting only seconds, neither David nor Robin caught that moment between mother and daughter, so engrossed were they in their conversation.

Robert was the only one who saw it and he accepted it for what it was. A gift. A fleeting glimpse, meant only for him to see. Meant only for him to store in his mind and remember forever.

When Robin and David did turn around, Robert observed his daughter as she took the baby from Anna's arms. Robin carried the baby with ease and her radiant face lit up as if there wasn't anything else in the world she'd rather be doing.

Still pushing the now-empty stroller, David's pace slowed down and his attention turned to Anna. He moved his hand onto the small of Anna's back, resting it there only just long enough to lift her lips into a sly smile.

The intimacy between them was so natural it suddenly made Robert feel like a voyeur.

'They're a family now,' he realized as the four of them slowly faded out of his view, turning a corner at the first cross-street they came to. 'Just like Anna, Robin and I were once.'

Holly's return to the land of the living hadn't changed that, all those years ago. She couldn't break up his family then. Nor would his return change anything now. Nothing he did now could possibly make this family his.

Becuase it wasn't his anymore.

The only thing his presence would do was to break Anna's heart, forcing her to make an impossible choice.

A groan escaped his lips as he suddenly realized what he had to do.

Sandrine was right. It was a matter of choice.

'I already made my choice,' Robert remembered. 'I made it over a decade ago, when I shook hands with the devil and agreed to Faison's deal.'

The past and the present were two separate worlds. You couldn't go back and forth between them at a whim. You chose one, and then you lived with that choice.

No matter how hard a choice it was. And how much regret it filled him with.

The family that had passed him by was Robin's future. Robin and Anna's, and that of the beautiful little girl he'd seen in both their arms.

_His_ future was in Africa. It was a diamond engagement ring that sat in his office drawer, and a woman who loved him as much as he'd ever been loved.

Robert felt the tension leave his shoulders, as it always did after he made a decision.

Unable to take his eyes off the apartment in front of him, Robert waited until the sun went down. Until the autumn evening chilled him to the bones and he started shivering in his new, blue suit.

Only then did he get up and walk away.

**The End **

**-**

*****Author's note**- Firstly, to those who've read this far, many thanks for sticking with this crazy, long tale to the very end, and a big, heartfelt thank you to those who always take the time to give me your feedback. For those who are writers yourself, you know that feedback always means a lot.

When I originally wrote this story, I had always planned to write a sequel. In fact, the original title of this story wasn't **Strangers** it was **Tempus Fugit** with the sequel, naturally, being titled **Amor Manet**.

As time went on and life got in the way, I scratched the idea for a sequel, and focused instead on editing the stories I had. But as I was editing this particular story, I realized that the ending left far too many questions unanswered, and that at the very least I needed to extend the epilogue. Leaving it as it is is pretty unfair to the reader. But as I began doing that, the epilogue started taking on a life of its own. So, to make a long story short (and god knows I have a hard time doing THAT), there will be a sequel. It won't be as long as I originally intended, and it definitely won't be as long as **Strangers**.

**Amor Manet** will begin two years after Strangers left off, and hopefully the first chapter will be up in less than two weeks.

-Roadrunnerz


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